Power Play
by Quentillian
Summary: They needed a place to lay low. For Face, what was supposed to be a relaxing retreat with a beautiful woman leads to a battle of wills as a prisoner of Colonel Decker.
1. Chapter 1

**Power Play**

**Author:** Quentillian

**Rating:** Mature for now, appropriate ratings to follow.

**Comments:** Always appreciated, good and bad.

**Summary:** The needed a place to lay low. For Face, what was supposed to be a relaxing retreat with a beautiful woman leads to a battle fo wills as a prisoner of Colonel Decker.

**Author's Note:** A/N: Special thanks goes out SSS979, Tiggertoo, and Rita for all of their contributions.

Prologue

Face felt a groan escape his lips. What the hell? Why was he on his back? The world was a blur for a moment as he waited for his eyes to focus. Blue sky sprawled out above him, enormous trees looming over him, and what? Where was he? Pain in his back; rocks.

Panic hit him suddenly, instinctively. He needed to get out of here. He couldn't remember why, but he needed to move. He forced his body to turn onto his side. His arms still felt like jello, they weren't pushing him off the ground like he wanted. Boots! Shit! Military boots right next to him. Too late to move away. The soldiers grabbed him by the arms and the dizziness hit him as they pulled him up.

The wind rushed out of him as his chest hit the nearest tree, rough bark poking through his shirt – scratching his face. The urge to fight – to pull away and run – was there, but his arms and legs weren't cooperating. Before he could wrap his head around everything that was happening, the opportunity to fight back was gone. Hands cuffed behind him, head pounding and limbs feeling only slightly less mushy. He was still completely disoriented. What the hell?

"Let's go, Lieutenant."

The words were far away. They didn't connect enough to mean anything. Someone grabbed the back of his collar and pulled him off the tree. Struggling to regain his balance, he stumbled as they shoved him. Damn it, get it together! His knees hit the dirt anyway. Those hands around his arms were the only thing that kept him upright to any degree. He shook his head to clear it. Come on! It _wasn't_ coming together. He stared at the dirt in front of his knees, willing things to make sense again.

"Leave him for a minute."

Good, they weren't talking to him. Even better, the words made _sense. _He looked around at the mountain side, covered in trees. No snow this time of year. That had been one of the only reasons he'd agreed to go camping out here. Nice weather, a beautiful woman, and no Decker. The way this was working out they might have thunder showers later tonight. A side of pneumonia to top it all off. Or strep throat – that's contagious. He could cough on them and make his opportunities. Did strep throat transfer by air?

Why the hell was he thinking about strep throat? Focus, damn it! He took a couple more deep breaths.

The guards pulled on his arms. They wanted him to stand up. They could wait. He followed their gaze to the tree line. Decker. The colonel was leading a horse as he walked towards them. Horse. Face had been thrown off his horse. How had that happened? Loud, unexpected noises -that's how. The sheriff had cut him off, and in the middle of a full gallop, fired a rifle. Horses _love _loud noises. Bastard.

Face took a deep breath. Whatever Decker had to say to him, he didn't want to hear it. Not now. Not when his brain was still sifting through layers of fog to form a coherent thought.

He could see it. That smug, self satisfied smirk at his expense – at his failure to escape. There was nothing he could do about that now. He was stuck. With that condescending gaze glowering down on him as Decker approached. Hell no.

Face started to get his feet under him again, push himself up out of the dirt.

"He's fine." Decker's gravel voice came with a dismissing wave of the hand in Face's direction.

Like hell was he 'fine'. In the dirt on his knees, and in custody again. 'Fine' did not even begin to describe this situation. He pushed himself the rest of the way to his feet as Decker came to a stop in front of him.

"Good." Decker glared at him. "You've got a long walk back."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: seems to be having a problem displaying this story. That being said, I don't know how far that problem extends ie subscriptions/alerts or anything else. I don't know how to fix whatever is causing the problem, but hopefully either the site will sort itself out or I will figure it out soon enough.

Quent

Chapter 1

Face jogged down the beachfront, timing his breathing; in through the nose, out through the mouth. The sun had only been up for an hour, but it was already warm enough to cause him to break a sweat. His hair was starting to clump together, and he could feel the moisture gathering on his chest. He smiled confidently as another jogger ran her eyes over his shirtless body as they passed each other. _That's right. Eat your heart out._ He kept his pace steady in the soft sand, waiting for the burn to set in on his thighs. In the mean time, he let his eyes wonder to the other joggers.

Nice. Face smiled to himself as his eyes caught on a dark haired beauty stretching in the distance. She was well toned, her sweats hanging low on her hips. Enticing. His smile brightened as she caught his eye. She didn't quickly look away as soon as he caught their eye like most, instead running her eyes blatantly down his body before she returned to stretching. Face took a deep breath as he jogged past her and refocused his energy. He would have to keep an eye out for her on the way back.

In the distance was a long jetty. It was the end of the beach and his halfway point. He'd turn around there, and head back for the car. It was rare that he ever saw anyone down that far on the beach…

Ugh! He missed a step as the dark haired beauty ran past him. She didn't look back at him, and he didn't mind watching her run; well toned muscles dancing around a dark sports bra and sweats. Her long hair was pulled back, and bounced with her gait. It surprised him to see her running so far from the water. Like him. Most opted for their morning workout to take place on the hard wet sand. It wasn't as strenuous.

He smiled to himself after a minute and sped up. That burn he'd been looking for was setting in on his legs, and he could feel his heart pounding in his chest from the exertion. He didn't look back at her as he ran by, but made sure to slow his pace to stay steadily in front of her.

His legs were starting to protest the changes in pace. Beads of sweat were rolling off his brow now. In through the nose out through the mouth. Not thirty seconds later she passed him again. He smiled to himself. She was playing. Still no eye contact, but she was definitely playing.

Her skin was starting to glisten in the low sunlight, and it filled his mind with possibilities. Soft music, low lights, tender touches… Did he have any obligations tonight? He didn't think so. And if he did, it was nothing that couldn't be rescheduled.

He sped up again. This time his lungs joined in the protest as he ran past her. He slowed as they came to the end of the beach, bringing his hands to the back of his head as he caught his breath. His abs tightened as he arched his back.

He held the pose even as he turned to face her, very aware of her eyes lingering on him. _That's right, keep looking…_ He smiled. "You heading back the same way?"

She was leaning forward, hands on her knees, not entirely out of breath but definitely tired. Nice. Face let eyes linger for a moment. If he had to guess he would say that she did not normally run this route. She was interested in him. No doubt about it. And that meant he had very little ground work to do.

She smiled at him as she drew in another deep breath and crooked her head in the direction they had just come. "That'd be where my car is."

Oh, witty too. The tone said it all –sarcastic, playful, and completely aware of the game she was playing. Exactly how well she could play it? "You come down this stretch of beach often, …" he trailed off, letting her take the lead in the introductions. His eyes drawn back to her cleavage as she caught her breath. Mmm. He bit the inside of his lip and pulled his eyes up to hers for the moment.

"Alex." She pushed herself upright again – so much for the view - and held her hand out. "Alexandra Carter."

"Alexandra Carter," he repeated, taking her hand.

Her grip was firm - much more so than most women. Did she feel like she had something to prove? Women like that always felt the need to prove themselves dominant. Which could be fun, but it got old after a while. He chose not to acknowledge the possibility, at least not openly. Not by tightening his grip with some macho show of strength or even so much as raising his brow. Instead that well practiced eat-your-heart-out smile took over.

"Tem Maddox."

"Okay, Tem." She smiled back not giving him an inch to work with. That was okay. The smile, the twinkle in her eyes as they roamed his body. Even the way her tongue lingered ever so slightly on her lips. It all screamed that she was interested. "You jogging back?"

He pulled his eyes away from her and back to the beach. He really should. He had planned on it. But this changed things. Jogging meant not talking, and he definitely wanted this conversation to continue.

"Actually I was thinking of a nice relaxing walk back to my car." There seemed to be a nice competitive streak in her. Admitting she had already outlasted him should placate that, but would it?

She eyed him, he could see her debating what way she wanted to take this. If she insisted on running he would join her, she had to know that. The leap frog jog, the well timed show of cleavage, she was playing with him just as much as he was her. And she wasn't new to the game. He'd given her the lead - walk or jog, he'd do whatever she insisted on.

Finally she nodded and took a step back in the direction they'd come.

He pulled his eyes away from her before she could see the victory flash across them. She may not be new to this game, but damn it if he wasn't a master at it.

"So, Alex, you jog this stretch of beach often?" Her mere ability to pass him on the soft sand was proof positive that she was used to running without hard ground under her feet. But if she was here often, why had he never seen her before?

"Depends."

He smirked at the playful tone - the safe, non-descript answer - and kept his stride even with hers. "Yeah? On what, exactly?"

If she did run it often, then she definitely kept closer to the water. She'd managed to keep up, which was admittedly very impressive, but she was by far too out of breath for this to be routine. Despite that, he had no doubt she would have made the jog back just to prove she could. Competitive streaks could be fun every once in a while, if you knew how to play them.

"Oh, I don't know." Her voice trailed off a bit. Finally she shot a sideways glance at him, "Scenery. Mood. Any number of things."

"Scenery, huh?" He let the skepticism fall into his voice. "That change a lot?"

She threw him a coy smile, and damn if his stomach didn't flip just a bit. "Mmm, yeah, today was kind of an off day, though. Normally there's some really pretty peacocks strutting their stuff at the far end of the jetty."

He laughed at that. He couldn't help it when his back arched just a bit more. If he had to be compared to something, a peacock was definitely one of the nicer options. "Tell me, you ever take one of them home?"

She shook her head even as she laughed. It was a cute - almost a giggle. A complete contrast with this "tough girl" routine she had going on. "Oh, God, no. I couldn't stand the mess." He caught a glimmer in her eye as she smiled at him, "or the smell."

Why did he suddenly feel like he had a hook caught him? This game was absolutely invigorating and he couldn't have walked away if he wanted to. And he had no desire for that at all, "Some of them are surprisingly easy to housebreak," he jested. "And a good shower does wonders for the smell."

He came to a stop as they neared the parking lot and leaned against the wooden railing. His voice dropped, trading that playfulness in for husky sexual undertones, "you'd be surprised what some positive reinforcement can do."

She smirked at him. "I'll believe that when I see it."

He came to a stop as they neared the parking lot and leaned against the wooden railing. His voice dropped, trading that playfulness in for husky sexual undertones. "I'd be more than happy to provide an object lesson."

She stood there, just inside those boundaries most people kept when they first met. She wasn't backing down. In fact she was pushing back just as hard as he was. He stayed there, smiling as her eyes raked over him again. Whatever she was looking for – confidence, sex appeal, irresistibility, didn't matter what – she would see it in him.

"Alex, tell me something." His fingers found hers on the railing. The physical contact of her soft skin under his rough, callous fingers sent a light tingle of electricity all the way through him. "You ever let these magnificent peacocks that entice you down to the far end of the beach take you out to dinner?"

Her eyes were absolutely captivating as they danced in the early morning light. "Sometimes." She waited a moment, her hand coming to rest on her hip. "But only ones that I think can keep up, mister I-need-to-walk-back."

He ducked his head slightly at that and raked his teeth over his lower lip. _Oh my god, she is going to be fun._ His mind flooded with the possibilities. She wanted a challenge? He could give her one hell of a challenge. Then they'd see who couldn't keep up.

"Maybe, I can make that up to you. Say, with dinner at Antoine's. Seven o'clock?"

"Antoine's?"

He smirked. She was calling him out. If he hadn't already made reservations at least a day or two in advance, he'd never get into Antoine's. She didn't know him, or what he was capable of. And it was always so much fun to listen to the surprise and the 'how did you do this?' that he couldn't quite bring himself to spell it out for her.

He leaned in closer, his voice lowering. "Nice table by the fireside. Moon lit view. Fine wine." He pulled back just slightly, smiling. "You'll have to settle on the company though."

She debated for a moment, "Alright, I'll tell you what. You can pick me up at six. But I have an early morning tomorrow, so I need to be back at a reasonable hour." Her smile had challenge written all over it. "Think you can handle that?"

Handle it? He could play this game all day and not break a sweat. "You wanna give me your address, or am I going to have to look up every Alexandra Carter in the book before six?"

He stood comfortably as she looked at him, the doubt clearly written all over her face. "Sure," she finally said smugly. "But I don't want any excuses about memorizing the address wrong next time I see you out here."

He didn't bother answering that, just waited with a smug smile of his own. She had nothing to worry about.

"715 Southeast Chatahooga Avenue. Number 348." She pushed a finger lightly into his chest. "And I don't give second chances."

Now why didn't that surprise him?

He turned as she walked past. His eyes eating up her curves, the way tiny beads of sweat were trailing down her neckline. He could feel his pulse quicken. If the dance he'd just had to orchestrate to even get a dinner date was any indication, "fun challenge" didn't even begin to describe the game he'd just signed on for.

His eyes lingered on her hips for a moment longer as she walked to her car. Then, finally, he turned towards his. He hadn't parked here. There was another mile walk down the beach before he reached his 'Vette. Plenty of time to work a couple of details out before tonight.

XXXXXXX

Decker was actually serious about Face hiking back through the woods now that the damn horse had thrown him. That reality had taken far longer to sink in than Face would have liked. By the time everything connected, it was far too late for any comeback that might have worked. All he could do now was point out the obvious: "We're in the middle of nowhere!" Walking back to the edge of somewhere was ludicrous – and not going to happen. Was he actually serious?

"I'm dead serious, Lieutenant." Decker closed the gap between them until they were toe to toe. "Hence the long walk."

Face tried to move back – put some distance between them, get out from under Decker – but the damn guards were still gripping his arms. He had nowhere to go.

"Decker, what are you thinking?" He looked around him. Century old Evergreens towered above them, almost blocking out the view of a blue sky that was so bright it actually hurt to look at. As it damn well should be. It was the middle of August and they were in Northwest Oregon, miles and miles from civilization.

"You can't honestly expect me to–" Face clamped his jaw shut. Of course Decker expected him to walk. Otherwise he wouldn't have said it. The guy was simplistic in that regard. Which meant that nothing Face could say was going to get through to him.

That being the case, Face would be damned if he was going to stand here and babble like an idiot any longer. Juvenile insults weren't going to get him anywhere and everything else – legitimate arguments, actual snarky comebacks, comprehensive thought – all of it was just out of reach. He shook his head, trying to clear it and find just one well-placed insult. Nothing. Just how hard had he hit his head?

"How did you get out of the cuffs, Lieutenant?"

He hadn't quite hit hard enough that he shouldn't have an answer for that. He smiled innocently. "Out of the cuffs?" The cuffs that were firmly attached to his wrists? That might as well have not been picked in the first place? He shrugged a demonstration of his inability to move his arms because of those same exact cuffs that he was supposed to have gotten out of.

Decker was not amused. "Don't get cute with me."

Cover story – he needed one. But what? He could barely remember what had happened, forming a cohesive cover story when he couldn't focus enough to navigate what Decker would and wouldn't know was a great way to get caught in a lie.

It didn't matter, though. Face just needed some time to think – to put a coherent thought together. He could play this hand for a few lines, at least. "Seems to me, they're still on."

He stumbled as Decker grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. He'd barely gotten his feet completely under him when he came to a hard stop against a tree. This up close and personal experience with nature was starting to grate on his nerves...

"Don't make me strip search you, Lieutenant. And don't think for a moment that I won't."

Was he kidding? What the hell was he expecting Face to do, pick the locks again and make a break for it? He didn't have a horse and they were miles from nowhere! It was only stubborn pride that made him stick to his story. "I got rid of it, Decker."

He groaned internally, pulling his head back away from the tree sap that had already made the side of his face all sticky. His mind reeled, searching for an explanation that would get Decker to back off. The last thing he wanted to deal with right now was a strip search. Not that it really bothered him – he'd gotten past the embarrassment and awkwardness of being stripped down a _long _time ago. But that didn't exactly make it a pleasant experience. And this whole production would serve him better if he could get Decker to believe him.

"He had both cuffs on one wrist when we found him," one of the guards spoke up.

"I wasn't exactly planning on shaking hands with anyone."

"Bullshit, Lieutenant," Decker growled.

Yeah, that's one thing he had right. This was absolute bullshit. Face's patience was wearing thin. "I don't have it," he snapped. "I got rid of it as soon as I took off."

A stiff hand between his shoulders kept him braced against the tree and he forced himself to stay relaxed – to not shove off of it and turn around to argue with Decker. "Fenlup, come over here and give me a hand with this. Dobbs, keep your gun on him."

Face let his arms fall to his sides as Decker unlatched the cuffs. Put them on just to take them off… "Come on, Decker." He could hear the irritation slipping into his voice. He threw a glance at Dobbs. A kid, no older than 25, pointing his rifle at him. Just a baby. If Face even moved wrong he was liable to get shot for all the experience this kid had in 'high stress' situations. He gave the boy a reassuring smirk.

Face brought his hands up – slowly - to the sides of the tree, "I'm telling you I don't have anything on me." He closed his eyes and forced down the building frustration to the pit of his stomach, where he could control it – ignore it. Somehow make it disappear. So much for buying a few minutes to think. Perhaps his technique needed some modification.

Decker didn't even pause. "On the off chance that you're lying to me, Lieutenant, I'd prefer to be sure of that." Was that sarcasm he just heard uttered from Decker?

Rough, forceful, hands running up and down him. Hands deep inside his pockets, forcing his jeans down further than they already were without his belt, before Decker finally pulled them inside out. Face let him continue, wordlessly. They both knew that if he was going to hide something, it would not be in his pockets.

Fenlup pulled at his ankle and Face shifted all of his weight onto one foot as his boot was untied and removed along with his sock. "So… telling the truth means I'm gonna get stripped?" Even Decker should be able to see how this plan of his had some fundamental flaws. "If I had known that, I would have kept the damn thing on me." He didn't even have anything on him he could give up just to appease the guy. Going through this the first time around had cleaned him out of any toys he had access to.

"Your track record speaks for itself," Decker dismissed.

His bare foot pressed into the pine needles and leaves as the balancing act switched sides. Face's grip on the tree tightened as Decker pulled his shirt from his jeans and he glanced at the guard holding the gun in his direction. He didn't need all the pulling and yanking to be misconstrued as resistance. He could see it now: A-Team member shot while getting strip searched. That might lead to an awkward investigation.

His torso jerked to the side as Decker pulled at him. "You know," he sighed as a button - maybe more - tore off his shirt, "I can take things off _for _you." He brought his forearms to rest against the tree just above his head as his other foot was finally allowed back to the ground.

"Or you can just tell me where the damn lock pick is."

Face moved as little as possible to accommodate Decker as he pulled the flannel shirt off of his shoulders. He didn't need to be told to put his hands back on the tree. The uneasy look of Dobbs was more than enough to make him think twice about doing anything that could even be mistaken for uncooperative. Hands ran their way along the inside of his waistband, up high in his crotch with no regard for personal boundaries and down his leg. He resisted the urge to push himself up to the balls of his feet and get away from the unwanted attention. That wasn't going to get him anywhere, and if he had learned anything from past events – it just caused whoever was stripping him down to get even more suspicious that he was trying to get away with something.

He glanced back at Decker as the colonel shook out his shirt – the rolled up sleeves bunching up instead of falling out. "I told you, it's in the dirt at the campsite." The hands were roaming the other side of him now, a repeat offense, high in his groin. "What do you want, GPS coordinates?"

Decker went through the trouble of unrolling the sleeves. Damn… Face closed his eyes for a moment – some illogical hope that if he didn't see it, it wasn't going to happen. The shirt hit his side harder than he would have thought bunched up clothing could be propelled. It was proof positive that Decker had discovered the pick.

Face threw a glance back at him, but he was already headed back to the horses. "Give him time to put that stuff back on and make sure those cuffs are tight."

Face sighed as he pushed himself off the tree and grabbed his shirt. Tight cuffs were probably as close to 'I told you so' as Decker would come. This was not going well by any stretch of the imagination. He slipped the shirt back on. Escape attempt numero uno was the best chance he would have ever gotten. Especially with Decker. And he'd blown it.

He knelt down for his shoes and socks, looking around again. Decker was heading back to the group of horses where the sheriff was. The activity seemed to have stopped though. Yeah, he'd been caught again, but only half the crew was here. That was odd; why weren't they trying to figure out where everyone else was? There were only four of them: These two lackeys, the sheriff and his rifle, and Decker. Were the others still combing the woods for him? He smirked at the idea that they were still trying to find him. Maybe they'd get lost and Decker would have to go track them down too.

He stood back up and put his shirt together as much as he could after Decker had ripped off half of the buttons. He rolled his sleeves back up and cast a glance at Dobbs. "Where's the rest of the troops?"

"Figured it wouldn't take all of us to find you."

Fenlup stepped behind him and pulled his arms together again. He winced as the guy clamped the cuffs on – tight was a _very _accurate description. It wouldn't take long before he lost feeling in his hands. He couldn't even move his fingers without feeling the cuffs biting into him.

"And nobody wants to deal with the lover's quarrel you had going on with Ms. Carter."

Lover's quarrel. Face glared at the guard as he shoved him forward. Maybe this guy had a sense of humor.

If Decker had split them up, they were down to half staff now. Face fought to suppress a smirk, shoving it down where it belonged and nowhere in sight. There were only four of them. Two of which were babies. The sheriff was a tag along. A guide more than anything. Decker was the only real problem here and he had always proven to be temporary. Predictable. Easy to manipulate – foil into an opportunity.

Face frowned at that – that wasn't exactly accurate. Not anymore. Decker _had_ been easy to foil into an opportunity. But Face had missed his opportunity when he'd ended up on his back with the wind knocked out of him. Now they had everything. Him, first and foremost, trussed up like a Christmas turkey. There was nothing he could do about that. They also had his lock picks, including the makeshift one, his gun, the horses, the supplies… He sighed. Yeah, this was going well.

He came to a stop a few feet short of the horses and waited. Blue sky, green trees, pine needles, dirt, and Decker. Not a whole hell of a lot to work with there. Decker's eyes never really left Face even as he sorted through the saddlebags. He finally turned, holding up the small piece of metal that he'd just taken from Face. "Where did you get this, Lieutenant?"

A knowing smile shot across Face's lips. No way in hell he'd be giving up that source, it was too easy to come by. "Mother Nature is full of helpful gifts."

Decker nodded. The answer didn't seem to surprise the colonel in the least. "Okay, Lieutenant." There was a tone of finality with that as he turned back towards the saddlebag and stopped Face saw it - that moment when Decker figured out exactly what that piece of metal was.

Face choked down a grimace even before the order came.

"Listen up. I want every pen, paperclip, and money clip you have. Anything that has small pieces of metal on it. Now."

All three of the guards escorting him made their way over to Decker and emptied their stuff into the saddlebag. It was like watching his toys get locked up by the principal. Well, hell. This situation was only getting worse.

"That go for the boot eyelets and belts too? Wouldn't want to be caught out of uniform."

At least he knew exactly where he needed to get his hands – though Decker would probably be guarding that saddlebag with his life.

He looked around again – middle of fucking nowhere. Just like all the other times he'd looked around, and that wasn't going to change. How long had he been out of contact with the team? Not that it really mattered; he wasn't expected back for another few days. They weren't going to be any help to him. In another few days, he'd be locked up in the stockade. No lock picks, no guns, no team, no opening. Hell he couldn't even think of how to create an opening at this point.

"Get his hands cuffed in front of him," Decker ordered as he pulled his gun and held it on Face. Fenlup moved immediately behind Face and began reworking the cuffs. "You so much as think about moving and I will shoot you."

Face's eyes narrowed at that. He had no complaints about his hands being in front of him. And he was not fond of having a gun pulled on him. He was even less fond of the cold tone Decker had. "You thinking about a flesh wound or something a bit more serious?"

"Trust me, it's not worth the gamble to try and find out, Peck."

He was right about that. There was no reason for Face to fight having his hands cuffed in front of him. Actually, it worked to his advantage. In fact – Face frowned – last time he'd had to bargain and cooperate to get his hands moved to the front. That didn't figure. Why the hell would Decker give him the benefit of the doubt after he had just escaped?

He watched Decker as the kid finished clasping the cuffs shut again, this time with a reasonable snugness. Damn, his fingers were tingling.

"Get me the lead from the saddlebag."

Face stood still, rubbing his wrists around the cuffs and flexing his fingers back to working condition as Decker finally holstered the weapon. Lead from the saddlebag? Face frowned deeply. Was there a reason his hands were in front of him? He eyed Decker wearily, his mind pulling at the pieces as Decker grabbed the rope from Fenlup and stepped towards him. Everything fell into place like tumblers on a lock as Decker grabbed for the cuffs. Four horses, five people, walk, rope. Leash.

Face took a big step back, pulling his hands away from Decker forcefully. The reaction was as unexpected as it was intense. In the past twenty four hours, he'd been tricked, held at gunpoint, stripped, pushed around, and dressed down in any number of ways. But none of it had initiated that feeling of panic that suddenly hit him like a tidal wave. He didn't understand it and it didn't matter. That fight-or-flight adrenaline saturated every fiber of his being without regard for recourse or consequence or action or anything other than not allowing this to happen.

Decker caught the cuffs, guards grabbed his arms. He reacted on pure instinct, bringing his knee up and kicking out towards Decker. It might have been more effective if he'd thought enough to take a step back first. But he _couldn't_ think. He wasn't even sure if he connected before his back hit the ground and the wind was knocked out of him. And he was pinned. He couldn't move. Couldn't get out – away from this.

His breathing was rapid and deep, chest tight. He wasn't getting enough air - lightheaded – hyperventilating. Muscles were tight as he struggled against them with everything he had. Fuck this was _not_ happening! _You're overreacting, Face. It's just a rope. _

He didn't understand it. He didn't care to. The white panic in his mind left no room for rational thought.

"God damn it! Get the fuck off of me!" He heard the growl, the raw unsubstantiated emotion in his voice – but it didn't connect, none of it did - none of it _mattered_. Even as he struggled he was absolutely helpless.

Suddenly, that pinning weight was off of him as the hands released him all at once. Flat on his back on the hard ground, he stilled - instinctively turning to his side and curling in on himself. He closed his eyes for a moment, slowly opening them again as his fingers explored, found the leash, _felt_ it. His breathing was slower now, deep – but slower. His eyes were glazed over and out of focus. He heard the movement, the talking, but it was all oddly far away. A fog separated him from his surroundings – his _reality_.

What the hell was happening?

He was on his feet again before he even realized it. Why or how he managed the change in altitude didn't even come into the picture. Numb - emotionless. His mind felt whitewashed – there was absolutely nothing there. No thought, no emotion, no logic. He stood there, staring mutely as they attached the rope around the cuffs to the saddle on the horse.

He was a prisoner here. He'd known that. He knew it the instant he'd heard Decker's voice, out here in the wilderness where it didn't belong. It wasn't the first time; it wouldn't be the last. Handcuffs barely fazed him anymore. But this…

His eyes ran up the leash, only half-focused. Why? Why the panic, the intense and irrational fear? Why did this cross the line? It was the line that needed defining. That line between master and slave, owner and savage. He was a wild animal being carted back for display like a trophy. Inhuman. Meaningless. Depraved. Why did that thought alone make him feel so… helpless?

He stared at the rope around the cuffs. He was somehow, suddenly stripped of power – even over himself. It controlled him and exposed him to an unfathomable degree – one he'd never known before. Except… he clamped his eyes closed as long-buried memories pushed up on the silence they were buried under. They were there. He knew that – acknowledged them in the briefest of moments before he turned his mind away and shut them down. It wasn't worth it. He didn't need to know. The bottom line was… he was on a leash. Like a dog with a choke collar.

"Mount up."

Face looked at Decker with empty eyes. "Colonel?"

The only response was a raised brow. The words slipped out with so much detachment they may as well have not been his. He was however, nonetheless, absolutely genuine as he raised his hands slightly.

"Unhook this thing," he said quietly, "and I give you my word I won't try anything."

Decker didn't answer him for a long moment, eyes boring into him. Face stood there, as exposed and honest as he had ever been. This was not some barter or con job. It was a solemn promise of absolute willful submission. And it was one that Decker shook his head at. "That's not going to happen, Lieutenant."

Face shut his eyes slowly and took a breath. There was no point in arguing. Even less point in begging. If Decker hadn't heard the sincerity there, he wouldn't hear anything else either. A flicker of dark, bitter anger flashed across Face's mind. What more did he have to bargain with? He had nothing. No options, no say, no power. _Nothing._

He raised cold, distant eyes to Decker, watching as the colonel mounted his horse. "Don't you think this is a little wagon train?" he snapped. He could hear the ice in his own tone as he tried to find that place where none of this mattered. Where he didn't care or feel.

"Lieutenant, you can either walk on your own, or get drug alongside us. The choice is yours."

Face's eyes followed the rope. It was secured to the saddle horn. Unlikely he'd be able to pull it free.

"Let's move!"

Decker kicked his horse. Face stood still, stuck. Suddenly the cuffs bit into his wrists and his arms were pulled out in front of him. The sudden pain and rush of hot adrenaline from nearly falling on his face brought him back to full awareness. God damn it!

He grabbed the rope and took several large steps to catch up, coming in close enough to make sure he had some slack. So much for getting control of the rope. He clenched his fists around the lead and forced out a deep breath, pushing the emotions down inside of him. It was impotent anger, and nothing productive would come from it. He took a deep breath. In through the nose. Out through the mouth. It didn't help – and it wasn't going to.

But he was going to kill Decker for this.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 2

To say that Antoine's was nice was a gross understatement to the point where, depending on whom one discussed it with, it may well be considered an insult. Candlelit wall sconces, marble floor to ceiling fireplace, real crystal glassware… Everything down to the Egyptian cotton hand towels in the bathrooms screamed class. And Face loved it. It felt right. Like a second skin that he never wanted to take off.

He sat across the table from Alex, candlelight casting long shadows that danced around the dinnerware, music floating through the air as they sipped 1971 Cabernet Sauvignon. Exquisite.

And so was she – long, dark, flowing hair that cascaded over her shoulders in stark contrast to a lightly colored evening gown. She was gorgeous and it took conscious effort to keep his eyes from wandering and undressing her.

"So, what exactly do you do that you can afford this place?"

He smiled. It was cute the way she blushed at her own question. It wasn't because she thought it was too forthcoming - her eyes were far too confident for that. Perhaps it was because she knew that it _should_ have been considered too forthcoming.

But forthcoming or not, it was proof that she was impressed. He liked that, and he didn't flinch at the question. Instead, well rehearsed answers filtered into mind. She could ask him anything she wanted. Tem Maddox was a familiar friend that he knew well.

"I specialize in investment and consultation work." He set his wine glass down and reached across the table, his fingers lightly brushing hers. It was a simple touch – a tease and a promise. And it made his nerves stand at attention. "How about you? What do you do?"

"I…" she looked down briefly, "manage research projects for the city."

His brows rose with curiosity. Was she embarrassed by that or was she lying? A coy smile pulled at his lips. He'd find out… "Really?" She had so much potential to be so much fun. The promise of a dance this intriguing, with someone as captivating as Alex…

He licked his lips to bring the moisture back and traced his fingers further up her arm as his eyes raked her again. The dress complimented her features well. It was only slightly revealing of her figure, just enough to tease; spaghetti straps that led his eyes to just enough cleavage to make him wonder. The pit of his stomach flipped at the mere thought of taking that dress off of her.

He pulled his eyes away from her chest again. "That sounds interesting."

"It has its moments."

"I'll bet it does."

Her eyes were mysterious. Confident when she blushed, honest when she lied. Body language was her tell. Hmm, she wasn't a pro. Maybe the lie wasn't calculated. Perhaps it was just avoidance for some reason.

Throughout their entire meal, she was looking him up and down, reading him. He felt a smile creep across his lips every time. There was something absolutely exhilarating to be said for breaking the monotony that double digit IQ's brought.

The waiter came by and cleared the table. He took the time to refill their wine glasses, and Face made sure to thank him before he left. Then he looked back at Alex. She had pulled her hand away at the waiter's intrusion, but she didn't seem to be closing him off. Either way he was back to square one. That was fine. He could do this all night.

She leaned forward and his eyes were drawn to her breasts as he caught a better glimpse of her cleavage. C cup if he had to guess. Supple, perky, perhaps even all natural.

Question. She had asked him a question. He searched his recall to try and figure out what it was. They had been talking about jobs. What about them? Damn it.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Had that slight lean forward that allowed such a mind stopping view of her breasts been calculated?

She laughed quietly, and sat up straighter. "I asked what, exactly, investments and consultation work means."

"Oh." Jobs again. He could think of more interesting topics. "I'm sort of a trouble shooter for businesses. I pinpoint the problem and help fix it." He waved his hand dismissively. Jobs were boring. She was interesting.

He smiled as he finished, waiting for the follow up question. But she didn't ask. Instead she sat there, eyeing him. He raised a brow at the blatant appraisal. Interesting. She was toying with him. It was probably a safe bet that she had intentionally distracted him when she leaned forward.

"Why don't we get out of here?" She smiled, and her fingers traced the back of his hand. "It's a beautiful night."

Face couldn't help the smile as he signaled the waiter for the check. He couldn't have orchestrated that better himself. This morning she had said the evening would be short, but she hadn't looked at her watch. Perhaps that was just an excuse in case she wanted out of this.

He left the restaurant with a smile on his face. She was right - the night air was still warm. Face draped his jacket over her shoulders anyway, running his hands over her skin as he did so. His left hand found the small of her back as he moved to her right.

"So where would you like to go?" he asked, his voice low and suggestive as the car arrived. Face opened her door when she didn't answer right away, then walked around the front of the car to the driver's seat.

She blushed again, that shyness coming back out. It was cute on her. "How about home?"

Face raised a brow. Home? There was no hint of finality in her voice. He smiled - what possibilities lie there? – and glanced at her, trying to read her eyes. They were full of mischief that was for sure. He liked the idea of home. "Yours or mine?" he teased as he put the car into drive.

She giggled. "The answer is no, Tem."

He looked at her. No? No, what? He hadn't suggested anything. And he knew he wasn't that transparent.

"You're cute. But you're not that cute." She smiled again.

Denied! He chuckled in spite of himself. It was one hell of a game she was playing. Flirty, coy, teasing… and that hadn't changed. Her eyes were still dancing. Playing hard to get? He could live with that. He didn't mind the occasional chase, and he hadn't figured she was the type to jump into bed with him the first, or perhaps even the second outing. At least, that had been his initial instinct. All of the teasing and toying since then had made him reconsider.

Happy to play the game, he smiled back at her. "You know, I might have just been happy to get you out of my car."

She laughed. "No, you wouldn't have. You like me." She was loosening up. He could hear the wine taking effect. It really was too bad conversation was going in the direction it was headed. He looked at her as she trolled her eyes over him. "But I'm not a first date kind of girl."

"I do like you," he agreed with a smile. He could play this teasing game as well as she could. "But you read a little too far into it. I never said I was a first date kind of guy."

She laughed, but had nothing to say.

"And I have a bottle of wine at my place that I've been saving for a special occasion." _And if that raking gaze is any indication, we might both turn into "first date" kind of people after a glass or two…_

"Hmm, I don't think so," Alex answered. "I have to work tomorrow morning, and I can't be hung over, or worn out."

So her job was demanding. He filed that away in the back of his mind.

"And for some reason I get the impression that your intent is to leave me both hung over and worn out."

He smiled at the playful accusation, and rested his hand on her knee. Soft, warm skin. Inviting. Perhaps not tonight, but he'd get her sooner or later. He didn't mind the chase; it made the catch that much more satisfying.

As he pulled the car to a stop in front of her apartment, he caught her eye. "Hung over and worn out can definitely be arranged," he teased, leaning over the passenger side to whisper into her ear, "if that's what you want."

She turned and leaned into him, their lips barely apart, her eyes searching his. "Then I will _definitely _call you tomorrow."

He ran his tongue over his lips to bring the moisture back as she walked into the building. His mind was dancing with future possibilities.

XXXXXX

The walking was getting old – even more frustrating was the increasingly frequent tripping over random shit in the uneven ground. Roots, rocks, dirt clots – they all seemed to be popping up and catching his feet in the dimming light. How long had they been at this? Hours. Hell it may as well have days the way Face was feeling. His feet hurt, his hair was matted in sweat, his shirt had soaked through God only knew how long ago, and his legs were starting to burn with every step. Not that it mattered. The horses didn't seem to be complaining so why the hell should he be opposed to this? Piss breaks, water, an occasional MRE and absolutely no sign that Decker was going to let him off of this damn lead any time soon. Fucking hell.

He shot a glare at Decker – up on top of his horse. He hadn't done much more than cast a disapproving glance at Face since they had started this trek. And he didn't need to. Face was stuck. Attached to this rope like some piece of property, Decker may as well have been cattle baron delivering his stock to the market. As long as Face was on that leash, his activities were more than limited and of no concern to Decker as long as they didn't impede forward progression.

Not that there was anything he could do to stop the transport anyway. He couldn't even get more than ten feet away from Decker in any direction. And meandering through the thick foliage in some vague direction didn't even give him that far between himself and the colonel half the time. On a few occasions he'd pretty much been forced side by side with guy. It put him waist high – petting distance – to Decker. He could feel his pulse quicken as the ire built up even at the thought of that.

He forced himself to relax, let it go. His eyes searched the ground for tripping hazards. He didn't need to make this any worse than it already was. Decker wasn't exactly antagonizing him or going out of his way to degrade him. Hell, Decker probably didn't even realize exactly how much this bothered Face in the first place.

Bullshit. Treating him like a piece of property that could be disregarded and ignored is precisely what Decker wanted. Face used that tactic every time he ran a scam. Make someone feel insecure and they looked to him to regain that security. Then when he made them feel as though he had a problem, guess who would be his best friend, more than willing to help solve that problem. It was basic and cold and manipulative. Meant to break him down, make him fall in line and say "yes fucking Sir!"

That sure as hell wasn't going to happen.

Deep breath. Calming breath. In through the nose out through the mouth as he steered clear of a large rock. It didn't matter. Right now all that did matter was keeping pace with Decker and figuring a way out of this mess. Keeping pace with Decker was the easy part of that. The colonel was holding steady no matter what. He could either keep up or fall behind – they continued forward either way. Hell, Decker could – and had – changed which way they were headed at any point. If Face wasn't paying attention, he simply got jerked off in the new direction without warning.

Early on, he had fallen behind just to see what the colonel would do; nothing. And he didn't have to. Decker let him fall behind without so much as raised eyebrow. But eventually the rope pulled tight, the cuffs snapped forward - Face's jaw clenched at that – and it was either catch up or get drug. Either way their jolly group kept going. He was a self contained nuisance at this point. And damn it if Decker didn't know it.

Face looked up through the tree limbs. The sun was low in the sky, disappearing behind the mountain. Considering the mountain and the trees, what little light was left pretty much ended up blocked out. Long shadows were cast over everything. His foot caught on the uneven ground and he stumbled forward.

"Damn it!"

His fingers touched the ground just long enough to push himself upright again. Every time he stumbled he lost slack on the rope. Then the next thing he knew, the cuffs would be snapping his arms forward until he caught up. And there wasn't anything he could do about it.

They would have to stop soon. Decker's troops needed to sleep. They had spent most of last night traipsing about the wilderness looking for him, and they hadn't taken much more than a ten minute break since. The horses needed to rest too. Decker didn't have a choice in the matter. It didn't matter how much the man wanted to get back to the trailhead, there were some realities that couldn't be denied. They would have to stop with enough light to allow them to set up camp. There was no way around that.

"Let's set up here for the night."

Thank God. A deep sigh of relief escaped him as Decker dismounted the horse and unhooked the lead from the saddle. Face came to a stop a few feet away, his eyes scanning the area. It was a small clearing - probably ten by twelve feet. At the same time it was also the largest clearing he'd seen in quite a while. It was populated with smaller trees, maybe a foot in diameter. The large Evergreens that surrounded the area were at least twice that – one of which had fallen across a portion of the clearing. A fire or something must have rolled through here years ago. Not a big one, probably somebody's camp fire getting out of control or a lightning strike that had smoldered itself out with the rain.

"Take a seat, Lieutenant."

Face turned back towards Decker and the hard, unsympathetic gaze locked on him. It was probably a good thing there was a list of reasons to have stopped for the night 'cause taking pity on Face being tired and disgruntled had definitely not factored into his decision.

His eyes followed the lead. Decker still gripped it firmly. That limited his options. He shook his head slightly to himself. How long was this going to continue? He turned towards the log. He would have preferred to go sit on the opposite end of the log as far away from his travelling companions as possible. But that didn't seem like it was going to happen. He lowered himself slowly. Either way, sitting was a hell of a lot better than walking one more ste-

His wrists snapped forward as the lead was jerked taught. He grunted as his knees hit the ground, elbows barely stopping him from eating dirt. What the hell?

"Right there is good."

Decker. What the hell was that bastard up to now?

"Wouldn't want you getting any crazy ideas about how to get out of those cuffs."

He was on feet again before he even knew what he was doing. Absolute bullshit, sit in the dirt. On a leash. Like a goddamn dog. He could feel the anger flow into his blood stream, his back ramrod straight, muscles tense with aggression. This was not going to happen. Eyes narrow and dark as they bore down on Decker, he glared in challenge. "You really think you're gonna get me to a cell like this, Rod?"

The air rushed out of his lungs, that sick dull ache pulsating through his stomach as he wound up sprawled on the ground again. His wrists were aching at the repeated assault of the cuffs biting into them.

Enough. He locked eyes with Decker. The guy was crossing too many lines, and it was going to stop – like it or fucking not. He slowly pushed himself back up to his feet, shoving the pain in his stomach to the back of his mind.

There was no way in hell he was going to allow anyone to push him around like this. Being led around on a leash was degrading enough. This – being forced to sit in the dirt at Decker's feet – sit, stay, fucking roll over and play dead. He'd had enough. He gripped the rope knuckles white with tension.

"Do it again," he dared him.

Decker's glare was cold and hard. "We can play this game all night, Lieutenant. And it will end very miserably for you, I can promise that."

Face held his ground, none of the words made it past a wall of sheer lividity.

"Or you can sit your ass down like a good prisoner, and behave. Your choice."

Behave like a good prisoner? He hadn't been doing anything wrong in the first place! He'd spent the entire day getting pulled around by that damn leash, his every move watched and dictated. Pulled around like a piece of livestock. Face took a quick step back. The lead pulled taught and Decker stumbled forward.

Face took a step forward – into Decker – and instinct took over as he caught Decker's wrist between his chained hands. But suddenly, he froze. Something in Decker's hand – something small and round - was pressed sharply into his throat.

His mind searched for an answer faster than conscious thought would allow. Too small for a knife, too big for a gun. What did that leave? Either way, pressed into his neck like this made it no less of a threat. He caught Decker's gaze; cold, hard, and confident. Whatever the hell it was, Decker had it pressed so hard it was nearly piercing skin. Decker's hold card.

Damn.

The colonel was pressed so close that the grip on his wrists was doing more to keep him standing upright than fend off the attack. The handcuffs were debilitating; they compromised any chance he would have had gain the upper hand. There was no chance of a counterattack working at this point.

"Sit _down_, Lieutenant." The order was low and threatening. "Or I will _make_ you sit down."

Face stood there, eyes locked with Decker as the words finally began to sink in. What the hell was he doing? Decker wasn't the only problem here. There were three other people here with guns all pointed at him. He'd lost sight of them all. In fact, he'd lost sight of everything except Decker taking another power trip at his expense. Stupid.

"Frankly, my evening will be much more pleasant with you unconscious and hogtied." Decker didn't blink. Didn't flinch. A hand on Face's shoulder pressed down. Hard. Forcing him to his knees. He didn't fight it. He released his hold on Decker's wrist and a second later the pressure was out of his throat.

He silently screamed his frustration as Decker took a step away from him, putting the object that had just been in this throat back into a holder on his belt. Unconscious and hogtied, huh? An auto-inject sedative then? Had to be - there wasn't another explanation for it and a sedative deserved all the confidence that Decker had in it.

"Make sure he's tied," Decker ordered. "And check the area to make sure there's nothing he can use to get out of it."

Tied? Face glared up at Decker, how much more tied could he get? Had he forgotten about that leash? His eyes narrowed. Decker had better not try to tie the lead to something. The only way that would work is if Decker was willing to break his fingers so he couldn't _untie_ the damn thing.

"I'll be back to check on you in a few minutes."

The tone was cold. It wasn't a challenge, or a threat, just a fact. And there was nothing he could do about it. He could feel his breath catch in his chest as unkempt frustration built up again.

Face brought his hands up to his throat as soon as Decker turned to leave. He could still feel where the pen had pressed to his pressure point. How the hell had he let that happen?

He didn't get a chance to think about it; an MP on either side of him grabbed his arms and dragged him to the nearest tree. Face fought the urge to resist, the temptation to pull away and fight. There wasn't anything to be gained from that. The gun the sheriff had on him was more than enough to affirm that.

They spun him around, pressing his back against the tree. God damn it. He knew exactly what was coming next. They released his hands long enough to wrap his arms behind him around the tree and secured them again. The angle forced his shoulders forward, and within only seconds a dull ache began to ebb through as his muscles protested. He tried to force his wrists around, palms in, but the cuffs were too tight. His shoulders ached, his wrists hurt, his mind raced, and all he could do was stand there and wait for Decker to decide to let him go.

He fought to control the anger as it threatened to boil over again. It hadn't gotten him anywhere. Even if he had a lock pick, he couldn't maneuver it at this point. He let out a deep, exhausted sigh, forcing the indignation down. He looked over at Decker and watched as he stood over a small fire that was already kindling. It was going to be a long uncomfortable night. Decker looked up through the smoke and shadows and caught his gaze for a moment.

Face stood there staring the colonel down until Decker finally turned his attention back to setting up the camp. Face let out a frustrated sigh and threw his head up against the tree as he closed his eyes. Decker and his power trip didn't exist. The MP's throwing untrusting edgy looks at him weren't there. And the knot in the pit of his stomach that made him want to pull off this tree and show them just how pissed off he was – wasn't there.

Yeah. Right. That was all complete and utter bullshit. And he wasn't dumb enough to buy his own sales pitch.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's note: This story isn't getting posted as quickly as I had anticipated because my muse is off on a tangent. This book is done, so it will eventually all get posted, just a matter of editing that is taking a bit longer than originally thought.

Thanks for all the reviews. All comments/critiques are always welcome.

Quent

Chapter 3

Face jerked his head back up the moment he realized it was falling forward and rested it against the rough bark of the tree. How much sleep had he gotten? Not enough, that was for sure. His mind was foggy – shutting down, like his eyes. Begging for slumber. But that only lead to a snap of awareness as his head inevitably dropped forward again.

He shifted against the tree again. It didn't help. There was no getting comfortable. The cuffs biting into to his wrists, his arms twisted behind him around the tree – the most he could hope for was a few winks of sleep as he tried to shift away from sticks and stones.

It wouldn't be much longer. The sun was starting to peek through the trees and the birds had begun to announce their presence in the limbs above. Decker would be up soon. Ready and eager to commence their trek through the wilderness again. A groan escaped him at the thought of that. If yesterday had been any indication of how things were going to go, today would be hell, pure and simple.

Decker could be a royal pain in the ass even on good days. Jerking him around and playing mind games when he hadn't had more than a few scattered hours of sleep in the past two nights… Face shook his head. That smooth debonair restraint he held so close was wearing thin at the mere thought of being led around for another minute, his every move dictated and scrutinized for compliance.

He leaned forward, tensing his muscles against the urge to move. He wanted to stretch. Get up and walk around. His shoulders ached to just _move._ Leaning forward only got him two inches away from the base of the tree and the cuffs pulling on his wrists. He knew that. He'd tried it to appease the need to move before. Many times, in fact. It didn't help. None of it did – moving, shifting, squirming. He was stuck to this tree like a fly on tar paper. Aarrgg!

He let out a deep breath and pushed the emotions down again. None of it mattered anyway. Decker held all the cards right now and the bastard knew it. The only way Face was going to get a chance to get out of this again was if he managed to play nice for a while. Give Decker a reason to lighten up. Even then he was betting against the house. Decker had a long memory. By default, Face had started out on his bad side. Escaping made it worse. And digging his heels in to challenge Decker's authority? That hadn't helped, for sure.

But what else could the guy do to him? Past handcuffs – Decker's hands were tied more than his were. The ending trump card for Decker was always going to be a jail cell. That wasn't a surprise or shocking. But there was only so much Decker could do to accomplish that. If Decker restrained him any more in this situation, he'd be risking serious injury to Face. And they _both _knew that wasn't going to happen.

Decker was black and white. Clear cut right and wrong. And setting a prisoner up for serious injury due to excessive restraints would be seen as a failure. That was the hold card that Face had. He could push.

He smiled at that. Decker was wound pretty tightly any given day of the week. Now? In the middle of nowhere fighting to maintain dominance every step of the way? It wouldn't take much to send him over the edge.

Face rested his head against the tree, his eyes sliding closed as he flexed his fingers against the numbness that was there. He was so absolutely tired his eyes actually hurt. Being pinned to a tree all night did nothing but compound the growing frustration. No matter what he did or how he rationalized it, there was a mounting knot in his stomach that was demanding more and more of his attention to control.

Deep breath – in through the nose – out through the mouth.

The only interaction he'd had with Decker since he'd gotten tied up was when the colonel had come over check to on him. His jaw clenched at that. There was nothing he could do and nowhere he could go. He just got to stand there against the tree – the cuffs forcing his shoulders forward - as Decker inspected the work of his minions.

Face had stood there in stony silence. Not trusting anything he had to say not to show Decker exactly how pissed off he was at the whole thing. Thank God Decker hadn't felt the need to gloat. A fleeting image of finding a way to kick Decker had scampered across his eyelids. Even now the mere vision of striking the colonel pulled a dark smile across his lips.

But Face hadn't said anything and Decker hadn't gloated so there had been no overwhelming urge to strike out and exact even the slightest bit of pain. Instead Decker had actually loosened the cuffs enough for him rotate his hands. It took the pressure off of his shoulders and had eventually allowed him to sit down.

Sheer determination and obstinacy had kept him from showing any sign of relief that rearranging the handcuffs had brought until well after Decker had left him again. Even then Face had waited until Decker had lost all interest in watching him to lower himself to the ground. And from that point on he'd drifted between the lull of sleep and head snapping awareness. And it had done nothing but frustrate the hell out of him.

He let out a deep sigh as soft breeze cut through his clothes and a chill ran through him. How much longer did he have? His eyes fluttered open to look at the night sky. The last of the stars still lingered there. It wouldn't be much longer. His eyes closed again and he let his mind wander to anything but this.

The mist from the ocean waves combined with the night air made things just brisk enough to cut through the thin white shirt he had loosely hanging outside a rolled up pair of Levi's. A small chill ran through him. He ignored it, pulling Alex into him. She was dressed more appropriately for an oceanfront walk. She ought to be, it had been her idea. Granted she had told him 'casual' and called it good when he had talked to her on the phone.

Walking behind her, he ran his hands from her shoulders all the way down her arms until they wrapped around her the front of her waist. His toes curled in the sand as they meandered slowly down the same beach front where he had first seen her jog past him.

He smiled as she leaned back, into him. The scent of her hair was intoxicating. "I think," he laid a small kiss behind her ear, pleased when a barely audible groan escaped her lips, "I like this better than the jogging."

She giggled. "Somehow," her hand worked its way back to his hip, "that doesn't surprise me."

She tipped her head back – God, she was beautiful – and he found her lips, soft and supple and more than willing to match the light teasing. Nine days since that first date – thanks to an untimely for fortunately quick job – and all he'd managed to do was kiss her. Somehow that made her all that much more alluring. That promise of the unknown. That forbidden fruit - he let out a deep breath that had caught in his chest as he pulled away from the contact.

She slid out of his embrace, her fingers catching his. "Come on."

He smiled as she pulled him into a light jog. "Where are we going?"

"I want to show you something."

"We can't _walk _there?"

She spun around towards him without missing a step, a challenging smile on her lips. "What's the matter pretty boy?" She pulled him towards her another step. "Can't keep up?"

Face's smile turned up mischievously at the corners. "I don't know where we are going."

She laughed. "You don't have to know everything all the time."

"No, but it would be nice if you'd clue me in."

"I never said I was nice."

It didn't matter to Face where they were headed. Damned if he wasn't going to follow her. His eyes ate her up as her long black hair bouncing to her step, her shirt just cut low enough to catch a glimpse of cleavage with every step. This was indeed a nicer pace than he'd first thought.

"It's not much further."

Face looked around at that. He'd been on this stretch of sand a hundred times. There wasn't anything here. She slowed finally, untangling her fingers from his.

"What? Here?" He pulled her into him suggestively, his mind reeling with possibilities. It was deserted.

Her hands slid down his back to his hips, but she shook her head, her lips just out of reach. Her hot breath on his cool moist lips sent a chill down his spine. His eyes slid closed naturally. She was so close. And so beautifully, enticingly kissable…

"No." Startled by the withdrawal of her hands, he opened his eyes just as she pointed over his shoulder. "There."

His gaze followed the direction – the ocean – and he raised a brow questioningly. "It's… the ocean."

She smiled openly at him, her hand smacking him playfully on the hip. "The rock," she clarified, raising her eyebrows at him as though that explained everything.

He stared at her. A "rock" of any sort did not interest him right now. Still, to humor her, he turned and found the one she was pointing at. It loomed twenty feet above the water and - look at that - surrounded by sand with the low tide. Was he supposed to be impressed?

"I think," he found her lips again, "I like this sand better." Tender yet firm, he pulled her hips into him. The suggestion was as clear as he could make it.

"I'm not interested in the sand," she teased.

"Why not? It's much more comfortable…" His hands moved slowly up her back, all the way to her shoulders as he dropped his head to kiss the side of her neck.

She pulled away from him suddenly, and with a laugh. "Come on, Tem."

He watched her skeptically as she knelt down and rolled her jeans up past her calves. "You're serious?"

"Of course I'm serious. Roll 'em up."

He didn't really have any desire to climb up that rock. Alex, on the other hand, was not going to be easily persuaded away from the idea. He looked at the rock and back at Alex – the curves of her hips, her small bare feet, dark red nail polish on her toes glimmering through the sand in the moon light. He leaned down and rolled his jeans up further.

"I hope you appreciate this." He couldn't help but smile at how ridiculous chasing a woman up a giant rock was.

She spun around onto her knees in front of him, her lips catching his. His breath caught, fingers fumbled away from his pant legs, and he found her shoulders as he lowered himself to the sand with her. Thoughts of climbing gone, his tongue found hers as his hands traced down her sides, his thumbs lightly brushing along the sides of her breasts. He could feel his heartbeat pick up. Yes, this was a much better physical exertion than climbing.

He leaned into her, her hand catching his cheek, fingers tangling in his hair, but she didn't move back as he pressed. He opened his eyes to find her watching him, a mischievous twinkle glinting back at him. Damn. Apparently she hadn't forgotten about the climbing.

He cleared his throat. "The rock, huh?"

She smiled. "You were paying attention."

His hands dropped to his knees as she stood up in front of him, turned and headed to the rock. He watched for a moment, his eyes following the way her body swayed with each step. A smile crossed his lips. Why was she so captivating? He shook his head to himself and stood up. He caught up to her easily, slipping a hand around her waist. Water splashed against them gently as they neared their destination.

"So, just what is so special about this rock?" There had to be something special about it if she was dragging him out here.

She looked back at him, that twinkle still in her eyes. "You'll see."

He followed her up. It was obvious she'd done this before. She knew the path well and didn't have a problem steering him clear of the things to avoid. It only took a few minutes to reach the top. Once there, he pulled himself upright and came in behind her, wrapping his arms around her. It was more than a little breezy up here. She leaned into him, smiling over her shoulder.

It was a beautiful view, he realized. The two of them in the night, surrounded by waves crashing against their landing, sky dotted with stars and slow rumbling whitecaps as far as the eye could see. His mouth found the nape of her neck. "You could almost lose yourself up here."

Her fingers laced his and he caught sight of a faraway look in her eyes. He sighed, that was not the look he had been hoping for. It was deep and meaningful and required more patience than he had wanted to exercise. He rested his cheek against hers and pushed his own desires away for the time being.

It really was a gorgeous moment. This place was familiar to her. He would almost venture to call it safe. Probably a place she had found long ago to escape the realities life brought. He pulled her in closer to him. This was something special to her, something she wanted to share. He sighed softly as he nuzzled her, and kissed her cheek lightly

"Thank you, Alex…"

"Lieutenant!"

Face's eyes fluttered open to find Decker's stony face looking down at him. The sleepy memory, not quite as confused as a dream but not as clear as conscious recall, faded into the realization of where he was and what was happening around him. _Here we go again._

He took a deep breath and plastered on a well practiced carefree smile even as Decker knelt down behind him to undo the cuffs. "You know, you've got a nice tree here. It's comfortable – good back support, but I have got to use the boy's room."


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Please be forewarned, this chapter is sex. I believe it is tastefully done, however if you don't care to read it, all you should take out of it for future reference is that it took place in a hot tub.

Chapter 3.5

Face turned the music up just loud enough for it to drift outside and set the mood in the secluded and quiet backyard of the Beverly Hills mansion he was currently "renting". Smiling to himself, he picked up the two wine glasses in one hand, the bottle in the other. His bare feet pattered against the hard stone of the patio as he walked towards Alex. She was sitting on top of the in ground hot tub, her feet dangling in the water.

He sighed appreciatively to himself as his eyes ran over her well-toned body. The string bikini – plum purple against her tanned skin – didn't hide much from his view. It was just enough to tease. Sexy and simple, it whispered "come and get me" in a way that words couldn't have. God, he couldn't wait to get those little scraps of fabric off of her. Maybe lay her down in the grass… kiss every inch of that soft, smooth skin…

He smiled as he leaned over her from behind, kissing her upside down as she tipped her head back. He set the wine bottle beside her, and handed her a glass as he teased her lower lip, letting the contact linger for a long moment before he straightened again.

"Tem, this is absolutely gorgeous."

He filled her glass for her, then sat down on the edge of the hot tub and lowered himself carefully into the heated water. It was waist deep where he stood, letting his eyes linger on her body. He could see every curve, and the responsiveness of her skin, covered in goose bumps. The fabric was too thick to know for certain, but he was pretty sure that under that top, her nipples were hard. His eyes ate her up, enjoying every inch of what he could see and imagining the parts that he couldn't.

She was doing the same to him. He could feel her eyes on him like a physical sensation. He didn't mind. He knew he was nice to look at. The night air, cool on his bare skin, made his muscles a little tighter, more defined. He didn't even feel the need to try and correct or compensate for those areas he would've otherwise been aware of. Confidence was not his problem, even under scrutiny. And it didn't appear to be hers, either.

He poured a glass of wine for himself, and sipped it slowly before setting it on the ledge next to her. "You like it?" he asked, casually.

He set a hand on her knee, and raised his eyes to hers as he ran it lightly up, along the outside of her thigh, halfway to those tempting ties at her hips and then back down. She smiled. "What's not to like?"

He laughed quietly and lowered his eyes to his hand, drifting an inch higher with every slow, gentle stroke up her thigh. Closer and closer to that tie his fingers were just burning to touch. She reached up to caress the side of his face, lightly tracing along his cheek, down to his jaw. "You'll have to give me the full tour later." A small smile barely formed on the corners of her lips.

He moved in a bit closer, until his lips barely touched her ear. "It would be my pleasure."

He let his bottom lip catch her earlobe and she giggled softly. The light, distinctly feminine sound was erotic in and of itself. She nuzzled into him and he pulled away slowly, his cheek sliding against hers. He paused with his mouth just a hair's breadth from hers. He could feel her hot breath. So close, he could almost taste the wine on her lips…

He pulled away without kissing her, letting her do without the contact. The smile she gave him made him wonder if she realized just how much he was putting _himself _through for the sake of teasing her. No matter, he returned it all the same, and grabbed the wineglass again. He took a sip, eyes still on her as she leaned forward, hunching over him. His eyes were drawn involuntarily to the dip between her breasts, the few centimeters more of skin that he could see when she sat like this. She was teasing him, too. And she knew it.

He liked it.

He found the tie at her hip, and watched her as he played with it. There was a challenge in her stare, fire in her eyes. He smiled, tracing the edge of the fabric across her abs and back. A smile crept across her lips, and he felt blood stir in his groin as he studied the dark look. Without a word, she was whispering to him. _"I dare you…"_

He lowered his eyes to watch his hand again, raising it to her top. He traced the edge under her breasts, back and forth lightly in a slow, gentle exploration. He moved slowly, along the edge of the triangle, up to the strap on her shoulder back down between her breasts. His fingers dipped just beneath the edge of the fabric, teasingly, and he licked his lips subconsciously as he looked back up and caught her eye again.

She raised a hand behind her head, and a moment later, the straps fell loose. He smiled as he raised both hands to slowly pull the fabric down, exposing her to the cool air and to his hungry eyes.

"You like it?" she teased, turning his own words back on him as he drank in the sight of her.

He grinned. "What's not to like?"

She leaned back on her arms, flicking her hair over her shoulders as she smiled down at him. He ran his fingertips feather lightly over the peaks of her breasts, teasing her nipples, pleased at the responsiveness. He lowered his hands to her hips and pulled her closer, right up to the end of the tub. She had to part her legs on either side of his hips as he pressed against the wall of the tub.

"You're gorgeous," he whispered, looking up to her eyes again.

"You think so?" Clearly, he wasn't telling her anything she didn't already know. He liked that. Her confidence was sexy, in and of itself.

He reached a hand into her hair and pulled her forward, smiling as he stopped with her lips barely touching his. "I know so."

He waited for the kiss, tracing her lips teasingly until she finally gave in first. She leaned forward, burying her fingers in his hair, and he smiled at the enthusiasm as their tongues fought for dominance. Her fingers found his side, and muscles tightened almost involuntarily at her touch. He smiled as she traced them down to the waistband of his shorts.

"You're not so bad to look at either," she whispered as they parted.

She smiled at him as he took another sip from his glass, then set it aside as he slid both hands up to her hips – one long, smooth stroke from her knees to her waist. "Know something?"

"Hmm?" She raised her brows questioningly as she reached for her glass again.

"I think I like you."

She dropped her head back and laughed at that. The sound made him smile. He hooked his fingers under the ties, teasing her again. Teasing himself. He pressed a little harder against the wall, wanting contact as his shaft hardened inside of the swim trunks. She leaned forward as her laughter quieted, and set her glass aside. Holding his face with both hands, she dropped her head to whisper into his ear.

"Don't tell anyone, but I like you too."

He laughed softly.

Their lips met again in the warmth of pure, unadulterated lust. He moaned softly into the kiss as he felt her hands slide over his shoulders, tracing along his arms all the way down to his elbows. His own hands were moving up, towards her breasts, and he rubbed her nipples lightly. They perked, hardened against his touch, and he smiled into the kiss as she moaned unashamedly, locking her ankles around his waist.

"Like that?" he teased, nipping lightly at her lower lip.

Her hands found his chest, and a chill of sensation ran through him as she returned the touch. His eyes slid shut involuntarily. No wonder she was moaning. His lips parted as he breathed deeper. He could almost smell her pheromones, and they were drugging. He wanted her. Wanted that tight, hot sheath of her body around him. Wanted to taste and touch her, to _experience _her in every way.

God, she was incredible.

He met her gaze again as his fingers found the remaining tie for her top. Her eyes were hot with passion, as desperate and needful as he felt. He pulled the tie and let her top fall, and she leaned down to kiss his ear, then his neck. The shorts were beginning to feel more and more constricting. He turned his head to kiss her neck, and the soft curve where it met her shoulder. "I need you…"

His hands cupped her breasts, firm but gentle, and her arms wrapped around his back, pulling him in closer. "I need you too."

He moved his hands down her back, then around to the ties on her hips. He could feel her tracing the waistline of his shorts, front to back, slowly working her hands inside. She pushed the back of them down pulling the front tight against his erection. He groaned, and pulled both ties at the same time, slowly working the knots free as he kissed her shoulder and neck.

She brought her hands back around and carefully pushed them down. He gasped as her fingers found his cock, enough to bring him to fullness but not enough to satisfy. It was only a light, barely-there touch, and it made him dizzy with lust.

"Damn… you're a tease." He smiled even as he said it, and as he heard her laugh softly. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd been so turned on.

"You like it," she whispered back.

"Mmm… better be careful." He pushed on her knees, parting her legs wide before he pulled the last little strip of fabric away from her body, revealing a well trimmed stripe of hair. He smiled. "Two can play at that game."

She smiled wickedly at him as he pulled away, and made no effort to shield any part of her naked body from his gaze. "Well by all means…" She leaned forward and ran her tongue over his parted lips, but didn't press close enough to kiss. "Give it your best shot."

"That a challenge?" he asked, amused by the concept.

"Would you like it if it was?"

He smiled.

Her eyes slid shut as he leaned in to kiss her throat with open lips, licking at her skin, teasing soft pressure points on her neck with his tongue. He kept time with the slow throb of the saxophone that was drifting out of the pool house, hands softly exploring her sides, mouth spreading warm, wet kisses along her collarbone and down to the rise of her breasts.

She brought her legs around his back again, locking him in, her hands tracing the muscles in his shoulders as he caressed her breasts. He continued to work his way down, flicking his tongue over her nipples as he handled her expertly. The soft gasps as her breathing broke were satisfying. They made him smile as he worked from one breast to the other, and then rose to touch her mouth with his again. Her lips were already parted, ready for him, but he didn't kiss her. As she pulled him into her with her legs, her fingers tangling in his hair again, he only teased her, not granting satisfaction. She leaned forward and he leaned back, just out of her reach. She smiled as she realized his game, and stopped pursuing.

One light kiss on her jaw marked his trail up to her ear, and he nipped her earlobe before pressing his lips against it. His words were so soft, they were barely a breath of air. "Lean back."

She arched her back as he gently pushed her backwards, lowering to his knees in front of her. The water that had been waist deep came to mid chest as he licked his lips, eyeing her with pure desire. She lowered to the ground completely, and he smiled as she arched her hips towards him. It was probably as close to begging as she'd ever come. He smiled as she tangled her hand in his hair again and pulled him to her with a low, throaty moan.

He didn't resist, but he didn't completely submit to her either. He knew the contact she wanted. Instead, he kissed her folds lightly, teasingly. His tongue explored lightly, gauging her hot points, listening to her breathing and the soft whimpers as he teased her. He pulled back, traced more kisses down the inside of her thigh until her grip on the back of his head wouldn't let him go any further.

He smiled as he saw how wet she was, and breathed deep, embracing her scent. Her fists were clenching in his hair now, and it was taking effort and strength to keep distance from her. "You want it?" he taunted her. She wanted it. He knew she wanted it. But after a challenge like that, he wanted to hear her _say _it.

She groaned, and he smiled as he sat up straighter. She tried to pull him back down as he put his hands on the insides of her thighs, holding her open. He stood, and she had to let him go. He smiled, looking down at her.

"Say it," he dared her as she opened her eyes to look up at him.

The sound was more of a growl this time, and she pushed herself up. There was fire in her eyes as she put her shoulders back, nose to nose with him. "Say what?" she challenged.

He slid one finger inside of her, deep, and her eyes widened in surprise. They slid closed as he pressed his thumb against her clit, reminding her of just how aroused she was. "Yield," he ordered, his own voice dark and thick with lust. Just the smell of her was making him crazy.

What was probably meant to be a stubborn refusal came out as only a whimper, and he leaned in to press his lips to her ear again. "Yield."

She shuddered as she took in a breath. "Please…"

He smiled, and pushed her back again as he lowered into the water again. He held her thighs, leaned into her scent, and drove his tongue deep inside of her. Oh God, she tasted incredible… The soft gasps quickly turned to desperate moans, and her hips bucked against him as he explored her thoroughly. Her fingernails were scraping along the back of his neck, pulling him in deeper. Her body was trembling. And he was so lost in the beautiful, salty warmth of her body that he even forgot to smile.

He caressed her body, his hands working their way from her thigh to her breasts, this thumbs stroking her nipples as his tongue explored her. Within a few short minutes, she was close. So close. He could tell how badly she was aching for him even before she pulled herself up, tightening her grip on the back of his head to keep him on her.

He rose, pulling away, and she writhed from the withdrawal. "No!"

He didn't even acknowledge her frustrated cry. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her waist, lifted her off of the ledge, and claimed her lips in a deep, passionate kiss. She clung to him as he turned and sat down on the bench, lowering them both into the warm, bubbling water. They gasped in unison as he pulled her onto his shaft, and every muscle tensed as he felt that tight, hot sheath stretch to accommodate him.

"My God, you feel good," he gasped into her neck.

Knees on the bench, on either side of his hips, she held his shoulders as she shifted her weight on him, slowly, in rhythmic circles. He inhaled sharply as she clenched her muscles around him tightly, and his lips parted wide to take in more air. His mouth was already dry from panting, and every nerve in his body was on edge, alive with sensation.

He slid his hands down her sides until he was holding her hips. Using each other for balance, they rocked together, the thrusts more desperate with every second that passed. Groans of pleasure escaped his lips, but he had no control over them anymore. Any inhibitions Alex may have had at the beginning of the night were gone. She rode him freely, demanding that he keep up. Her long hair cascaded around her face in wet strings, swaying to their movement. Her eyes on his were wild and full of passion, sweat breaking out on her forehead as her chest heaved, gasping for air. He didn't think he'd ever seen a woman as gorgeous as she was in that moment.

His breath caught in his chest as he felt her tighten around him. He fought for control, groaned in pleasure, thrust deep inside of her as he picked her up again. He turned with her, pushing her into deeper water and up against the bench. Her arms locked around his shoulders, legs locked around his waist, and he held her hips tightly as he thrust deep, hard. She was on the edge, her body begging for him to take her over. The thrill of the conquest was tripled by the sheer pleasure running lightning-fast circles through his body.

Her lips quivered as a groan escaped. "God, yes."

He could feel his breathing becoming more and more labored, "Alex...", his muscles tight and rigid as he teetered on the edge of beautiful, blissful release.

"So close!"

He hung there, with perfect control, waiting for her, savoring that moment where climax was inevitable… and the wait felt so indescribably good. He was horse with desire as he gasped her name again. "Alex, come." He could hear the strain in his own voice as he tensed in the last few seconds before the free fall. "Come with me!"

"Yes! Oh, Jesus, yes!"

He fell, eyes sliding closed as his body jerked with fervor against hers. So tight… So hot… So beautiful to feel so damn good… They writhed in pleasure, releasing the pent up fire from the very core of their single, joined being. Her breathing was a mix of pleasure-filled sighs in his ear as her fingernails raked against him. As the intensity slowly subsided, her grip loosened. The scraping eased into a caress, and their bodies gradually became still. He kissed the side of her neck, catching her mouth as she turned into him.

He held her in a firm embrace for a moment, watching her eyes and the dark light that was still glittering there. He smiled. She wasn't finished. And neither was he.

"You want to move this to the bedroom?"


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 4

Yesterday, Face had made a point of keeping his head down. He'd avoided every sarcastic, smartass comment that filtered into his brain. He'd choked back every point of contention that his knee jerk instinct told him to pursue, and every possible quip at Decker's expense. All. Damn. Day.

By the time they set up camp for the night, it hadn't gotten him anywhere. He was still having to ask for water and piss breaks. The very idea of being _allowed _access to either of those things grated on him. And in fact, instead of lightening up to any degree, Decker had pulled out a belly chain and secured the cuffs so that Face couldn't move his hands away from his body. "You give me a reason to think you're up to something and I'll hogtie you. Understood?"

It hadn't been a question, and Face hadn't been able to hold back his fury.

Yesterday he'd at least had a reason to play by Decker's rules. Today he felt no such inclination. That tactic had proven futile and continuing with it would only feed into Decker's power trip. Damned if he would let that happen.

He drained the last drops of water from the canteen. God, what he wouldn't give for some ice cold water right now instead of this 'baked three days in the sun' crap. Ice cold water or some tequila in an air-conditioned penthouse suite. Add that to the list of desires - a nice long nap on a pillow top mattress with thousand count sheets…

He choked back a sigh. This had been by far the most unrestful, unsuccessful and unpleasant vacation getaway ever conceived.

He didn't bother recapping the canteen as he plastered on an amiable grin and handed it back to Decker. "Ahhh, good stuff."

"Glad you're enjoying yourself, Lieutenant."

Right. Apparently Decker did have a sense of humor.

"I wouldn't want to inconvenience you with dehydration."

Decker put the canteen back in the saddle bag. "It would be more of an inconvenience for you than me."

Bastard.

He looked back up to the rest of the group, shouted, "Let's go!" and kicked the horse into gear without giving Face so much as a glance.

Once again, Face took up what had become his 'usual' travelling spot. Behind Decker, and as far away from him as the trail would allow. He took a deep breath. It didn't really matter one way or another where he chose to walk. He may be in Decker's blind spot at the moment, but there were still two guards behind him watching his every move. Like he was being babysat by Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum.

He almost laughed at that. How absolutely absurd was this? Here he was a Special Forces, combat-hardened war criminal and he was being paraded around like a prize pony at some over privileged child's 4H show. He shook his head – absolutely ridiculous.

He kicked a rock and sent it skittering down the trail ahead of them.

He'd spent all yesterday listening to hoofs pound the dirt, broken up only by tail swishes and the horses letting out the occasional exhaustive bored sigh that almost matched his. It was more than a bit mundane, and the silence seemed to make this whole hellish experience just that much longer and slower and more miserable.

Face swung in a bit on the trail to keep the lead from getting caught up in a bush up ahead. He glanced up at Decker – still staring straight ahead in an attempt to ignore him as much as humanly possible. He grinned as a thought flickered across his mind and he swung back to the outside of the trail – pulling that lead so it lined up just right with the center of that bush.

"So, say you catch us," he offered, flattering Decker in spite of the fact that he would have laid money on the fact that the day would never come. "And we _stay _caught." Couple more feet… "What do you do then?"

"You really need me to spell this out for you?"

Face smiled as the lead got tangle up in the branches. He kept walking, ignoring it as though there was no problem.

"Come on, Decker. You retire with a notch on your belt? Take a long overdue vacation? God knows we'd like it if you ever took-" The rope pulled tight on the cuffs spinning him back around towards the bush. "Ugh - hold up."

It pulled equally on Decker's saddle, proving the legitimate need for a stop as Face stumbled towards the bush. Decker stopped the horse, turning towards Face as he knelt down and fumbled with the rope.

"I'd like to know how you got tangled up in that bush when you should be watching where you're going."

Face stopped working the rope and looked up to find Decker frowning at him. How nice. He smiled. "I was busy _not_ tripping over roots and rocks."

"Never thought you'd have quite so much trouble multitasking."

Face wiped the smirk off his face at the bored tone and gave a tug on the rope for appearance sake. "I think it's been proven by modern science that multitasking is a trait dominated by the fairer sex."

Decker had little patience. "Lieutenant, you can either get that rope untangled quick, or figure out how drag that bush with you."

That was an empty threat and they both knew it. "You could just cut the rope," he suggested. That would solve any number of problems – including false pretenses.

"You have thirty seconds."

"Cut me loose," Face continued, ignoring him, "and you wouldn't have to worry about my apparent inability to multitask."

He pulled at the rope until it was free, but left it lying loosely on the branches. Decker jerked it as soon as Face had untangled it and Face's hands snapped forward as Decker kicked the horse into gear again.

Damn it! Overreact much? Face stumbled forward, grabbing the lead as he got his feet under him again.

"You know, your bedside manner could use a little work."

He rubbed his wrists and tried to push the cuffs to an area that wasn't already tender. Three days of this crap though – there wasn't a spot on his wrists that weren't covered in dark bruises already.

"Get tangled up again, Lieutenant, and I won't stop."

The hell you won't. There was any number of reasons Decker would have to stop, the least of which was wrapping himself around an immovable object – like say a tree for instance. "You know, it's not exactly a pleasant experience from this side of things either."

"It's not supposed to be."

Face scoffed. "You're all heart, Decker." If he wanted to play games, that could be arranged. Eliciting a response from Decker had never been a problem before, and it could sure as hell be arranged now.

"If you're looking for sympathy, you're looking in the wrong place." There was a distant, disinterested tone there that was more than a little irritating.

"Really?" Face snorted. "All this time I thought you were the embodiment of a Hallmark greeting card." He pushed the hair out of his face again. Sweat was starting to run down his brow. He swung to the outside of the trail again, finding as much shade as he could.

"Enjoy the witty comments now, Peck." Face glanced up towards Decker. The disinterest wasn't fading away to aggravation the way it should be. Was he just not pushing the right buttons. "I'd suggest you get them all out of your system before you go to court."

The last thing he needed was a lecture on prison behavior. "I'll make a note."

He sighed. Even the conversation intended to irritate Decker was doing a better job at irritating Face. Three days of dealing with this crap – his tolerance was virtually nonexistent. And Decker's 'holier than thou' demeanor was doing a good job of grating on his last nerve. "You know, I could have this conversation without you."

"Why don't you?"

Face's jaw clamped down a bit. He should have seen that coming. Fucking hell. How much longer did they have of this? That right there was another problem. He had no idea where they were. It could be another couple hours before he was in a jail cell, or another few days.

As much as he hated everything about this situation, another few days would be better. It would give Hannibal time to figure out that he was in dire straits before the news was littered with footage of him being paraded around in military greens and shackles.

He glanced up at the sky. The sun hadn't peaked yet – it was still morning. Scorching hot and it wasn't even noon. He wiped the sweat off his brow again. His hair already stringy. He pulled his shirt away from him. It did nothing but waft warm air down his torso.

He was miserable. This was like the perfect storm of misery tailored just for him: hot, sweaty, covered in dirt, in handcuffs, being lead around by Decker. The seventh circle of hell couldn't have been planned better than this.

He sighed and glanced up at Decker for a moment. It was going to be an excruciatingly long day. And there wasn't a cloud in sight.

"Can I get some water?"

The way this was going Decker had to be running low on water. The heat as bad as it was, he wasn't the only one guzzling the stuff. Face smirked at the idea of having to make a detour for more water. A nice break by the creek side as the horses regrouped and Decker filled canteens.

"No."

That was so unexpected that Face almost stopped mid-step. "Seriously?"

"Do I sound like I'm joking?"

He eyed Decker for a moment. What was his angle? "Mind if I ask why?"

This time Decker turned towards him in the saddle. A hard, annoyed stare bore down on him. "Because you just had some and I'm not stopping for you to relieve yourself _again _until we get at least another mile down the trail."

Face choked down a smirk at the irritated tone. But unfortunately, this was an inopportune moment for Decker to latch on to all the time he was losing.

"You know, it's a whole lot less effort on your part to stop for thirty seconds every hour than to explain why I died of a heatstroke while in _your _custody."

"If that happens, I'm sure I'll think of something." That dry, unamused tone was back. And it was irritating as all hell.

"Alright, fine." Damn it, Face needed a new tactic. "So I can't pee until we've walked another mile. When can I drink? Just so I can pace myself."

"When I say."

"That's helpful."

Face felt his jaw start to clench. If Decker was trying to irritate him by treating him like a wayward teenager, it was working. He didn't need this.

"Alright, how about you stop for thirty seconds and let me take off my shirt?" That was a reasonable and rational request; a T-shirt was a hell of a lot cooler than the long sleeved flannel.

Decker turned towards him again, "if you think I'm taking those handcuffs off of you for _any _reason, you've got another thing coming."

"Decker, it's a hundred degrees out here."

"Not my problem, Lieutenant."

Face scowled at that. It was Decker's problem and they both knew it. "Actually, this whole prisoner dynamic makes it your problem."

"My job is to get you back to the base alive. And you will be." He turned in the saddle towards Face again and glared at him. "But frankly, I do not give a good god damn about your comfort."

"Comfort? I'm not exactly asking for Egyptian cott-"

His toe caught on a raised root – damn it! He stumbled and tried to get his footing. Too late. His knee hit the ground, the cuffs bit into his wrists as the tether pulled taught a couple inches from catching himself. He turned his shoulder down - instinct told him to go with it and roll back onto his feet - but a hard jerk pulled his hands away from him again. He landed flat on his stomach so hard it knocked the wind out of him.

Decker's horse stopped. "Get up."

The hell with getting up; he couldn't even breathe. He wasn't going anywhere. He closed his eyes and rolled onto his back. Long deep breaths. _Come on, breathe._ He brought his hands down to his stomach – somehow it seemed like grasping at his abdomen would diminish the discomfort. God, it hurt, that thick muscle ache that kept time to his breathing. He laid there – Decker was going to have to wait - slow deep breaths in through the nose and out through the mouth.

The rattling of the bridle and heavy thud of hooves moving again made him open his eyes. "God damn it!"

He rolled to his side and pushed himself to his knees just in time for the cuffs to jerk his hands forward as he stumbled up to his feet again. Decker didn't even bother looking back at him to make sure he was upright again. Just sat there in the saddle staring straight ahead, intent on forward progress.

Face pulled in a deep breath. Forcing his diaphragm to work again. It was one of the most uncomfortable sensations he'd ever experienced. Always had been. A nice solid shot to the jaw was preferable. That was something you could just walk off. None of this being doubled over with some distant inconsolable ache. Face coughed as he clutched his stomach.

"Can't you at least give me a minute?" He didn't even try to keep the airy sound out of his voice.

Decker continued his stony gaze forward. He didn't even bother to slow the horse down, or acknowledge that he'd even heard Face on any level.

Face held his stomach for a moment longer, his gait still somewhat unsteady as he eyed the lead. He could pull on it – _make_ Decker stop. That would show him. He scoffed at that, yeah right. What would that show him? That he could simply kick the horse back into gear and that no matter how pissed off Face was, he wasn't stronger than a horse.

"You know this isn't a fucking POW march," he shot, furiously.

No answer.

Face took a deep breath that finally didn't demand he ignore that sick pulsating feeling. The discomfort was quickly being replaced with building hostility for the entire situation. The hell with Decker. Face was done playing nice with him. The man wanted to tie him up and drag him around out here; there was nothing Face could do about that right now. But damned if he would cooperate on any level. He'd make damn sure it was just as miserable for Decker as it was for him.

"Your mom must be real proud," he sneered. They'd see how long the silent treatment lasted. "You ever tell her you get your rocks off by chaining up guys and dragging them around?"

Decker let out a long exhaustive sigh that screamed of contempt.

Face felt his jaw clench at that. Decker had no idea how far he could push this. The colonel may well be in control of just about everything right now, but Face sure as hell could beat this bullshit silent treatment in his sleep. "Ever talk to a shrink about that, Rod?"

Probably didn't have a shrink on the payroll that could sit through more than one couch session with him.

"Or are you worried that would sideline your career even more than it already is?"

Hell, was that even possible? Full decorated Colonel survived how many wars, and got sent out on some piss ant AWOL search that nobody really cared about anyway. Pathetic. Did Decker even have any concept of how much of a joke his career really was? Any other self-respecting Colonel would have taken a desk job by now. It would have paid better and it sure as hell had less embarrassing moments to stamp a signature on.

"Maybe they will stumble onto that dark basement of yours."

They all had skeletons. The ones that Face knew of, were bad enough. He didn't even want to think about what else was behind that stony black and white, "end justifies the means" demeanor.

"Figure out why you don't have a wife or any semblance of a personal life."

Decker actually laughed at that. Face's eyes narrowed, his knuckles going white around the lead.

"It's a lonely world."

Decker was an all American boy. This solitary lifestyle was secondary to that failed career. That absolute devotion to – what? Proving he was military, that he was loyal, that he would succeed where nobody else had at the sacrifice of himself?

"So focused on guys you're never going to hang on to."

Never. And it would be nice if Decker would get that through his thick head and move on. How many times did they have to do this before he realized he was chasing a damn pipe dream?

"You trade it all in. Morals. Happiness. Your _own_ freedom!"

He watched Decker for any reaction. No one was that good at shutting off. And Face knew he'd hit on a couple sore spots. Bastard didn't even give toss an irritated glare at his diatribe.

"One of these days you're going to wake up and wonder what the hell happened to that childhood dream of a military career, wife and kids."

There was no denying that those things were missing from Decker's life. Face knew. He was the one that had hacked the computer and done the digging the moment they'd found out Decker had been assigned to their case. Amazing what you could find out.

"You've got none of it. All you've got is a stack of paperwork all reporting _failure_ and -"

Decker's gravel voice cut him off. "'Bout another three quarters of a mile, Peck." The tone was so casual and disinterested Face may as well have been reciting third grade poetry. "Then we'll stop so you can take a leak."

Tense and furious and unwilling to accept his complete failure at pressing Decker's buttons, Face gripped the lead with white knuckles and gave a loud, frustrated yell of pure contempt.

Decker only smiled.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 5

Face threw the van door closed just before they fishtailed around a corner – effectively putting the hammer down on Decker and his goons. His shoulder slammed against the inside of the door as they straightened out and slowed to a manageable speed again. Damn. That was how many times in recent weeks that Decker had gotten the drop on them? And it seemed like he was getting closer every time. That did not bode well.

This time it had been a sheer stroke of luck that they had been anywhere near the van when Decker and company careened around the corner – with no warning sirens or lights flashing.

To say that they were all sent scrambling like dogs on a hardwood floor didn't even get close to describing the mad dash they had all made to get back to the van. In fact, Face was pretty sure that Decker had gotten a front seat view of him skidding so far out of control across the porch that he almost fell face first in the dirt on the way to the van.

Decker was getting smart. No sirens announcing their presence from miles away. If it had been a minute later they would have all been inside the building, completely unaware of an impending "Smith, you're surrounded and you have two minutes to come out!" None of them ever wanted to repeat that experience again.

Face glanced at Murdock as he settled back into his seat, holstering his sidearm. He couldn't help but smile as Murdock pursed his lips and blew his cheeks out. _Yeah, my sentiments exactly._ Apparently he wasn't the only feeling as though things were closing in a bit too snugly as of late.

Hannibal's jazz-filled chuckle cut through his thoughts as the colonel spun his chair around. AK – 47 across his lap as though it was nothing more than a discarded pizza box.

"I gotta hand it to Decker, he's getting better at this." His smile was beaming as he reached into his pocket for a cigar.

Face almost groaned at that. If there was one person who would love every second of this, it would be Hannibal.

"Better?" Murdock intoned in that cartoonish way that only he could pull off. "He was so close he could count my fillings." He opened his point, putting his molar on display. Point proven.

Face eyed Hannibal for a moment. This whole situation really did deserve something beyond mad cackling. "You realize 'better at this' ends with us in a jail cell right?"

Hannibal just smiled at him as he _scritched! _his lighter to life and puffed on a victory cigar. "Yeah, but it sure does keep life exciting, doesn't it?"

Exciting? Narrowly dodging bullets and an impending twenty years sentence was not the type of 'exciting' that Face wanted anything to do with. "I don't know about you guys, but I've had about all the excitement I care to for a while."

"They right, Hannibal. He's gettin' too close."

_Thank you, BA._ Face smirked. There was nothing like BA growling his discontent at the situation to cut through Hannibal's adrenaline riddled mind.

Murdock pulled his legs up under himself in the seat – lotus style – and laced his hands behind his head. "I gotta go with Face, Colonel. The yoga instructors at the VA were telling me I need to relax some. I don't think getting up close and personal with a pit bull in olive drab is what they had in mind."

Face smirked at that. _And thank you, Murdock, for the perfect segue into getting out of dodge._

He leaned forward a bit. "Yeah, you know, maybe we ought to think about laying low for a while. Off of Decker's radar. He can chase his tail wondering where the hell we disappeared to."

Like a nice summertime escape. Under the stars with Alex naked in his arms, not a care in the world. And Hannibal not too horribly suspicious of his motives. It was probably a good thing that Murdock had the original lead in to this topic.

Hannibal looked at him for a moment before glancing around at the others. No doubt the near-constant pursuit was taking its toll on all of them. "Not a bad idea. What did you have in mind?"

_Long legs, silky smooth skin, golden tan lines… _

Face cleared his throat as his eyes were drawn to Murdock as the captain struggled to remain in his chair. His eyes closed, hands palm up as he channeled a yoga instructor. The lotus position had definitely seen better days.

"I'm working on making my mind a blank, Colonel. Nothing but sunshine and calming breezes."

That was too easy. Face turned his attention back to Hannibal. "Actually, I was thinking about heading up to Oregon for about a week."

"What's in Oregon?"

"Hmmm." Murdock's eyes fluttered as he tilted his head back. "Trees, lots of trees."

Face gave his most innocent smile. "About two thousand miles of Decker free wilderness."

Hannibal sniggered at that. "Lieutenant, I've never heard you be so interested in the wilderness."

"The wilderness is a side note, Hannibal." He leaned forward in his seat; Hannibal needed to buy this. "The important part of this is the fact that Decker will not only be nowhere near there, but wouldn't even think of vacationing there himself. It's perfect."

"Uh, huh. What's her name?"

Face didn't even think to deny it, or to be surprised that Hannibal knew it. "Alex," he sighed wistfully as he leaned back in his seat. She was gorgeous, and feisty. Mmm, it was going to be fun. "She invited me to go camping up in Oregon. I wasn't going to go, but now – it's looking like a very nice alternative to playing tag with the MPs."

"Camping? You?" Hannibal laughed openly.

"I camp." He shot, a hair of indignance tracing his voice. Well, for Alex he would camp.

Murdock's laughter joined in and Face shot him a glare. The captain almost falling out of his seat as he doubled over. "You camp? Right, and I'm the poster boy for Sanity Monthly!"

Face shot him an irritated glare. "All right, you guys done?"

"Sorry, Lieutenant. It's just that I remember something about having to twist your arm to get you to a cabin. And you make it sound like this camping excursion will include pup tents and an open fire."

Face smiled and shrugged. "I don't remember there being the promise of a beautiful woman at that cabin. And I'll be in the middle of nowhere. Decker's never going to even think to look for me out there. Isn't that the point of this?"

Hannibal was still smiling at him. But he wasn't arguing, or even jumping onto that 'getting suckered in by the ladies' soapbox of his.

"I've got no objections." Hannibal threw a glance to the driver's seat. "BA? You got some place you can hole up for a while? Take a vacation?"

BA's darted to Hannibal and quickly back to the road. "I got some things to do."

Face's eyes narrowed as BA stared more intently than ever at the road and almost… squirmed.

Face smiled slyly. "Yeah, BA? Like what?"

"Captain? Can you handle a few days off?"

BA caught Face's eyes in the rear view mirror and quickly looked back to the road. Face smiled. It was so obvious. Everything about the big man screamed that he had some woman he could shack up with. Face almost laughed. It would be so easy to get BA to admit it. He could do it. Three questions maybe and he'd have the big guy red handed.

"You going to go do some camping, too?" Face pressed, grinning.

"No!"

Face chuckled at that. BA may not be camping but he'd lay money on the fact that the activity list was the same as his own. "No lighting fires of any sort?"

Murdock still hadn't answered Hannibal. Instead, he joined in with a gleeful laugh. "BA's got a girlfriend!"

Face laughed as BA's expression ran the gamut from shock to horror to fury to embarrassment all inside of a half-second.

"Shut up, fool!" He growled as he almost missed a turn.

"Awww, come on Big Guy, tell ole Howlin' Mad about her. Is she pretty? Does she have a thing for angry guys in gold jewelry with bad hairdos? What's her name? Did you kiss her yet? Did you see stars?"

He didn't even pause for a breath. It was like watching a mentally ill bagpiper practice circular breathing.

"Does she call you B for short, or are you her Snookie Bear? Do you think you should wear white on your wedding day? Does she like it when you scowl? Is she your sugar mama?"

"Shut up, fool! SHUT UP!" BA swerved the van to the side of the road, slamming it into park. He turned all the way around in his seat and reached back to grab Murdock. "I said shut up!"

"Does she like it when –" Murdock managed to untangle his yoga position of the moment just in time to fling himself out of grabbing distance. A windmill of arms and legs as he fought to keep himself up, and he ultimately landed on Face with a meaty _thud._

Ugh! All right, that was enough of fun and games. Face pushed Murdock off of him and shot an annoyed look at both of them as they both found their way back to their seats. "Can you two not put us in the ICU where Decker _will _find us?"

"So, Face," Hannibal continued, ever-so-casually. "Given that you're going to be out in the middle of this wide open wilderness, with no way to stay in contact, I sure hope you've checked this Alex out."

Checked her out, he surely had. Very thoroughly in fact. From her lavender scented shampoo to her pretty red toenails.

"Nothing to worry about, Hannibal."

"Good. Then you mind providing a full name, address, phone number, and whatever else you have on her." Hannibal's smirk was anything but amused by the possible problems. "Just for safety's sake."

"Sure," Face met his smirk with a confident smile of his own. Alex was a nice girl. A nice challenging change of pace for sure. But _nice._ And Face had no reason to suspect anything other than getting his fill of her during this close knit excursion. "You want her full dossier or just the cliff notes?"

"I'll take everything you've got." He waved his cigar, as he turned his chair forward again. "The Oregon wilderness is a big place to get lost. If I can't find you, I want to at least be able to find her."

Face relaxed into his seat. "Don't worry. I'll remember to pack my compass, flint, and stone." And perhaps some lingerie for Alex. He had a few days until they were supposed to leave. Plenty of time to get some things put together.

This was going to be a nice relaxing vacation, filled with long nights under the stars holding Alex in his arms as a campfire cast long billowy shadows over their bodies. Mmmm.

XXXXXXXX

Hitler could've probably taken notes from Decker.

Overbearing. Dictating. Micromanagement even. None of it was a sufficient descriptor for Decker at this point.

He was waiting impatiently as Face fumbled to button up his jeans. Even such a small task was frustrating to Face. How many days had they been at this and he still hadn't figure out an effective way to put his pants back together with the cuffs around his wrists. The way this was going, Decker was going to think he was intentionally stalling again and drag him around with his pants hanging off.

Finally – his pants back together – he turned towards Decker. His eyes automatically found the lead and bore into it. It was such a stupid thing to be detained by. His clothes were getting ripped to shreds being drug around out here and this damn rope – tightly wound fibers really – somehow didn't have any sign of fraying.

And that rope was only part of the problem. He couldn't help but run his fingers over the lock as he tried to find a place for the cuffs to rest that didn't make him grimace. Such a tiny insignificant challenge. He could pick these cuffs any number of different ways including blindfolded, and yet, here he was – playing Cub Scout leader with Decker.

"Ready, Lieutenant?"

Face pulled his eyes up from the locks, "Does it matter?" It didn't and he knew it. Decker feigning on any level that his opinion either mattered or would even be considered was more than a little patronizing.

Decker watched him for a moment longer, his features just as stony – perhaps more so in some grisly way the beard added - and indifferent as always. "Not particularly."

Exactly. So why ask in the first place? Unless the entire discussion was simply meant to reaffirm that Decker expected Face to submit to his every word. Good luck with that; it wasn't going to happen. The colonel could do a lot of things at this point. But that power trip at Face's expense only went so far.

Decker turned towards the sheriff without giving him a second glance. "How long before we get back to civilization?"

Now that was a worthwhile question. Face waited silently for the sheriff to answer. He didn't know where they were, or really how long they had been out here at this point. But knowing how far away from that promised jail cell they were was more than a little handy.

The sheriff turned to look back at Decker. "Depends." He shot Face an untrusting glare.

Face met it with a well practiced boy-next-door smile, his eyes glinting with innocence. He would never try to do anything underhanded to impede this little excursion.

"Two days," that glare deepened, "best case scenario."

Decker frowned at that. Granted he probably would have frowned at any answer the sheriff had outside of 'it's over the next hill'.

Two days. A lot could happen in two days. Stalling hadn't worked out particularly well. And Decker would catch on to any tactic to further stall unless it was incredibly discreet and well thought out. This whole situation did not lend itself to well thought out manipulation.

"I'd like to make it in half that time," Decker turned a glare on Face also, "but I'll settle for a steady pace. At least until sundown."

How nice. Face rocked on the balls of his feet as his 'who me?' smile beamed. "Having problems roughing it?"

"Just anxious to turn you over to the proper authorities." Decker's voice was as dismissive as it had been this whole trip. You would think that the guy had more than one aspect to his personality. Even dealing with him as closely as Face had over the past few days, the guy was still as one dimensional as ever.

Face started walking again as the colonel kicked the horse into gear. How many times did Decker need to say in some variation 'you're going to jail' before he got tired of it himself? It was cyclic and predictable and boring and … Face sighed. Either Decker was truly that disinterested in anything but getting him to a jail cell or he actually didn't know how to fathom an original thought. Either way it was irritating.

He pulled at his shirt, wafting thick hot air around his torso as they traveled. It offered no relief from this ridiculous heat. Finally, he brought his hands back down and pushed the cuffs in front of his wrists again. Nothing was comfortable. Not the cuffs, or the heat, or his sweat soaked clothes, this itchy beard, or boots that he'd had on for far too long.

"See, Decker, you're missing the personal touch. Lynch would have seen me all the way to a _handpicked_ jail cell." One that probably would have had a neurotically neatly folded uniform already adorned with his name and rank. "I'm telling you, it's the little things that make the difference."

Decker didn't even bother turning in the slightest degree towards him. "I'm not Lynch."

"Really?" No kidding. Perhaps that was the reason Decker was still around – pointing out the blatantly obvious was an in-demand skill.

He could picture it now. A class full of greenies, fresh out of basic. Decker standing ramrod straight in front of the class. 'You see ladies and gentlemen, we want to make sure that inside the handcuff pouch on your belt, there is one pair of standard issue handcuffs.'

Face wandered to the side of the trail trying to find as much shade as possible. It was useless. The little bit of shade he did manage to find for a split second didn't do anything to combat the heat. "Maybe after all of this nonsense is over and you retire, you and Lynch can get together and compare notes."

He wiped the sweat off of his brow for the hundredth time. It was too hot to have all these layers on. His only option right now was to pull the flannel over his head and have it wad up around the cuffs. And that would just compromise the use of his hands even more than the cuffs themselves did.

He glanced back up to Decker. "You could write a book," he smirked, his voice taking on a bit more of a whimsical tone as he baited the man. "Born to Lose and Destined to Fail."

"I don't think so, Lieutenant."

Face couldn't help but smile at resigned disinterest. Decker could play the 'silent treatment' game all he wanted. Face was more than capable of handling both sides of this.

"What are you missing? The drive?" Nobody ever wanted to make public knowledge of how miserably they failed time and time again. What was it they said about repeating the same mistake over and over again? Something about the definition of crazy if he remembered correctly. Probably shouldn't bring Murdock into this. Decker was worse than a bloodhound in that regard.

"Motivation? Creativity?" Antagonism was slipping into his voice more and more with each passing comment.

"How about the ability to recall _all _of the embarrassing escapades? If you want, I could get you copies of the original reports." The stacks and stacks of reports, that all ended the same way. Failure. Just like this was going to.

Decker brought a hand up to his forehead. "Do you ever run out of arguments, Peck?" The exasperation finally filtering in to his voice. "I am not going to get into this with you again."

"Again?" Face smiled at the absurdity of that. "Decker, answering everything with 'you're going to jail' doesn't exactly count." And Decker _would_ get into it with him again. Only this time it would not end with him on the losing end. That much he could guarantee.

"Frankly, that's all I have to say to you." Decker was back to staring straight ahead, any hint of irritation gone. "You know the situation here as well as I do and tangling yourself up in bushes and running your mouth incessantly does little to change that."

Face's eyes narrowed at that. Stalling would have proven to be more than a little helpful had Decker not figured it out so damned quickly. "See… that's good," and like it or not 'running his mouth incessantly', was the just about the only thing he could do right now. Whether it led to simple irritation at the colonel's inability to get Face to drop in line, or to actually pushed Decker into an opening was the only thing up for debate.

"We could work with this. Might take another few years, but there's hope for you yet."

Face bent down and grabbed a rock. At least Decker didn't seem to care about him fiddling with things. In fact if anything, the colonel probably wished Face were more entertained by the inanimate objects.

"Add to your repertoire." Along with spatula salesman and desk clerk_. _ Face smirked at that concept. "Maybe you could even consult Hannibal on adding some more color to things."

He eyed the rock for a moment, his fingers running over the rough edge until it almost cut through his skin. He glanced up at Decker – still staring dead ahead – hmm. He tossed the rock back to the woods. "Granted you'd have to hang onto him for more than twenty minutes."

Face sighed. Rocks and twigs. And Decker's personality had less character than either of those things. Murdock would be in heaven. Sticks and stones – cowboys and Indians – whatever, the pilot would come up with something.

"See, this right here is the problem, Rod, you give up too quickly."

"Not until I succeed, Lieutenant."

Face rolled his eyes at the dry disinterested tone, "Yeah, yeah, I know. It ends with me in a jail cell."

"You're catching on."

Had they not just discussed the fact that Decker needed to change this back and forth routine? Decker of all people should know that a threat lost its teeth when it was repeated in three minute increments.

"You know, Rod, you're getting really predictable."

"Look who's talking, Lieutenant." This time Decker almost laughed.

"It's been tried before."

"And yet you admittedly didn't see it coming. Honestly, that sort of surprises me. Generally I can expect something of a challenge from you,"

Face felt his jaw clench at the patronizing tone. Decker had been lucky. Pure and simple. This entire situation had nothing to do with Decker having enough skill to actually orchestrate a clandestine operation at their expense.

"But I guess you're just not the same without Colonel Smith to keep you focused. Extraordinarily predictable when left to your own devices."

He scoffed at that, a humorless laugh escaping him, "Yeah? I guess it's a good thing you had the sheriff over here to pick up the pieces of your careful planning and character study, or I'd be in Idaho by now."

"With or without Detective Carter?"

"Oh, you mean 'property of the highest bidder?"

"If I didn't know any better, Lieutenant, I would actually think you were taking the rejection a little too personally."

The hell with this. Face took a deep breath. An angry knot in his stomach spurring back to life. He glared at Decker. "Somehow I don't think fucking her all night long really qualifies as rejection. And on the tax payers dime too."

Decker wanted to hardline this into personal attacks… well, Face could play that game. No holds barred. He smiled darkly at that idea.

"Perhaps next time you could spring for a blond with double D's."

Decker threw him a hard scrutinizing look of disdain, "There won't be a next time for you, Lieutenant."

"Why? You going to send out your lackeys trolling the streets for your own trick?" Maybe that was the problem, Decker needed to get laid. Take the edge off of his control issues.

"How do you like 'em, Rod? Tall lankly brunette who has a fetish for a man in uniform?" Did Decker even have any civilian clothes? He probably had to bank on woman liking the uniformed strong silent type.

"Or you go with the petite blond that you can man handle? Looks like you've had practice trying people up to me."

"That's enough, Lieutenant."

"Or is it just the guys you like to chain up?" Decker's hand was back to his forehead, Face smirked. No question he was getting under Decker's skin.

"Throw 'em on the ground, establish dominance." He shrugged his shoulder, "Or try."

"I said that's enough."

Face looked up at the tone. There was a definite warning there. Good. "What are you gonna do after you're done with me, Rod?"

"Enjoy the peace and quiet."

"Next to your military purchased snuggle buddy? Or did Alex drain the coin collection? You're going to be left with charity cases." That was a long shot. Face couldn't think of any woman that was that charitable.

"Maybe you can come back here. Treat the sheriff up there to a nice time after all of this." They seemed to have a nice understanding thus far. The sheriff leads. Decker follows. What was that they said about a good woman behind every man?

"After all, you've had plenty of 'bonding' time at this point. Quiet nights by the campfire, sleeping under the stars. Practice with the handcuffs."

He raised his voice as he glanced between Decker and the sheriff, there was only so much of this that Decker would tolerate. "Maybe you can show him a move or two."

Decker pulled the horse to a stop and turned a hard glare on Face. "That is ENOUGH, Peck!"

Face raised his brow at Decker's explosion. His smile radiating innocence. "Oh, defending his honor already. That's cute." He rocked a bit on his feet, Decker's reaction feeding into the adrenaline that was pumping through him.

Face's eyes glinted with contempt. "Sheriff might have something to say about letting you wear the pants in this whole thing though… wouldn't want to start a lover's quarrel before you even have a chance to get things started."

"One more word, Peck, and I will gag you."

Face's features hardened at that. They both knew that was an empty threat. Decker didn't have a choice in the matter. If the colonel restrained him any further than he already was they'd either have to slow down considerably or risk serious injury to Face. _Both _would put a damper on that two day time table they were working on.

"Oh, you like gags." He threw his gaze back to the sheriff, a sardonic smile taking over as he called Decker's bluff. "Guess we know which one of you two is going to be on their knees."

Decker dismounted the horse. "Cover him."

Face smirked and raised his hands ever so slightly as the sheriff level the shotgun in his direction. Take it easy, he wasn't going anywhere. They all knew that. Pinning him down with a shot gun was a bit of overkill. "Oh, that's good, sheriff, taking instruction like a trick already."

Face pulled his attention away from the sheriff as Decker marched towards him. Staunch and determined as ever as he fished something out of his pocket, a short rope thrown over his shoulder.

Face stopped – the continuing insults falling short even as his jaw continued to work. There was something beyond nonnegotiable about the colonel. Something… foreboding. He'd seen that look before. And it made his heart pound in his chest as his mind froze.

Decker grabbed his wrist – hard - forcing the cuffs deep into his skin as he unlatched them. Face took a hard step back as that fight or flight adrenaline flooded. Last time that happened, he'd wound up on this rope. He wanted nothing to do with this. A loud '_CRACK!' _of a round bring pumped into the chamber of the shotgun stopped him in his place. Hell!

Decker had his arm bent up between his shoulder blades, an unrelenting hand pulling his other arm behind him. Not giving him the chance to move before his wrists were bound together again.

What the hell was Decker doing? His muscles were tense – almost straining. Instinct alone pumping through him, looking for an opportunity to move. And then Decker's hands were off of him. Something scratchy against his skin. On his forehead. He pulled his head back, as much to get away from whatever it was as to see it. Rope! Being pulled hard down his face, finding its way to his mouth.

"Don't!" He heard the desperation in his voice as he pulled his head away, taking step back into Decker. "AARG! Don't do this!"

Whatever amusement he had found by getting a reaction out of Decker was gone. He'd had every ounce of control taken away from him already – or so he'd thought. Whatever Face's reasons for thinking Decker couldn't follow through with gagging him – Decker didn't seem to agree.

"I'll stop! Come on, don't do this to me. I swear to God I'll stop!" He heard the words tumbling out of his mouth as though they weren't even his. And he didn't care, as long as this didn't happen. His breathing rapid and deep as Decker held him there, that rope pulling against gritted teeth – and suddenly it was gone.

"One more word, Lieutenant. Just one."

Face closed his eyes for a moment and calmed his breathing. Deep _slow _breaths. He knew he'd been pushing it when he'd started in on the sheriff. Decker gagging him though? The legitimacy of that was still debatable. But it was _not_ worth calling the bluff. He'd thought it was – and he was wrong.

"I'm done playing games with you." Decker released the cuffs after a long moment.

Face bowed his head a bit as Decker released his hands again. Deep calming breaths – in through the nose, out through the mouth.

Face stood there as Decker latched his hands in front of him in. Breath. In through the nose, out through the mouth. It was done. Decker had made his point and Face wasn't getting tied up. So why was it that he could still feel his heartbeat pounding in his ears?

What the hell had he been thinking goading Decker like that? It hadn't gotten him anywhere. Outside of irritating Decker into a possible mistake it hadn't even been meant to. Even then, if it had worked, Decker wasn't the only problem he had to deal with. He took a deep breath and slowly let it out.

Decker looked at him, "Make me get off that horse again, and there will be no more second chances. Whether you are being cooperative or not. Understood?"

Face held his gaze, flexing his fingers and relaxing them again. Over and over to keep his hands from shaking. Decker was right; there would be no round three of this. The most well aimed insult that he may ever conjure up was not worth it. And it didn't matter anyway. Decker cared as much as Face did about what the colonel thought of him. There was no point.

"Yeah, I got it."

Face took one last deep calming breath as Decker turned back to the horse. What the hell was he doing?

Page **12** of **12**


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 6

Decker's office was dingy at best. Bare bones. He didn't need a whole lot for his assignment, and he spent less time in his office than any other officer he knew. The leads on the whereabouts of The A-Team were constantly rolling in. And every one of them got their fair share of his time, including the report he currently held in his hand. Lieutenant Peck had been spotted on multiple occasions with Detective Alexis Carter.

Stupid. Plain and simple. Peck was getting sloppy. Complacent even. And if Smith was letting that happen with Peck… Decker smiled wickedly. It was only a matter of time before he had them all behind bars. And _this_ was the start of their undoing.

He'd been able to get the drop on them three times in the last month. In the past, every time he'd gotten that close even twice in one month, they had all gone to ground. Instantly, too. It was like a vanishing act they'd perfected.

Not this time, though. This time, Peck was hanging around this Carter character. The last sighting had been two days ago. A day after the last near miss he'd had with them. They hadn't gone to ground yet. But it was coming. Even Smith could only dismiss the threat of capture for so long.

He set the report down on the desk. He'd read it to the point of memorization. If he played this right, it was only a matter of time before Peck was locked up and running that smart mouth of his to a warden who had all the tolerance of a Viking. And after that, all he had to do was wait for Baracus and Smith to trip up.

The anticipation was like a physical sensation coursing through him. Crane was on his way with Alexis Carter right now. The captain was due at any moment. The need to move on this lead was eating Decker alive. In fact, he'd had to make a conscious effort to NOT stake out her apartment and ambush Peck as soon as the lieutenant turned up.

He'd tried that. More than once. Peck was unpredictably resourceful. It was annoying to say the least, and he was tired of returning to the base empty handed with the same damn story to write up on another report.

This time was going to be different.

Detective Carter was a new piece on the chess board. And that meant the game had changed. There was an off chance that she was helping Peck. But that meant that she knew who Peck was and that he was a fugitive. And Peck wasn't that dumb. Besides that, Carter had a spotless record. Making a career for herself, climbing the ranks. There was nothing in her dossier that lead him to believe she'd be willing to throw everything she'd worked for away for kinky thrills.

And that may have just put him one step closer to checkmate.

Decker wasn't a fool. Either way this Detective Carter fell into the picture, he had a plan. Whether she was protecting Peck or victim of another one of his cons, there was a course of action to be taken. And as much as putting away The A-Team's support staff gave him pleasure, this would work out much better if the good detective was innocent.

'_Thunk, thunk, thunk!' _

Decker looked up at the door. That would be Captain Crain with Carter in tow.

"Yeah."

Crain pulled the door open and gestured the detective into the office, closing it behind her, leaving them alone in the room. She was Peck's type alright. Georgeous. Although at least on paper, this one had more than a double digit IQ.

He pushed the chair back as he stood. "Detective Alexis Carter?" He held his hand. "Colonel Decker."

She had a firm handshake. Nice.

He smiled. "Have a seat."

"I'd prefer to stand until I know what is going on." There was a sharp confidence in her voice that wasn't _entirely _unexpected. That confidence was going to go away in a minute. It may not give him any pleasure to be the one to have to inform her that she'd simply been the latest pawn at the tail end of a long string for Peck, but it served a purpose.

He'd wanted to ease into the revelation of who Peck actually was. There was a proven system to slowly breaking someone down. Then giving them back that power that was so closely tied to their sense of self worth and identity. In this case, that would come with reprisal of Peck.

If she wanted to skip ahead to the heart of the matter, that would work too. Not quite as well, but the end result would be the same. He picked up a folder that had already been opened to Peck's mug shot and turned it towards her. "You know this guy?"

He watched her expression run the gamut from recognition to confusion as she took the folder from him. It was quick, but genuine, and shocking enough to make her take that seat she'd wanted nothing to do with a few seconds ago. Her eyes quickly scanning the report with practiced ease as she flipped through the file. Piecing things together. Understanding exactly what was going on.

She looked up at him, finally. Silent and deflated, almost waiting for him to direct.

"What do you know about him?" He kept his voice soft, almost comforting. He'd seen that dejected look before – countless times in fact. Being forced to tell someone that they'd been played, was perhaps the least enjoyable part of his job. Now was no different except for the fact that he couldn't allow her to shut him out.

He kept his features compassionate – and more importantly, nonjudgmental – as he waited for her answer.

"He told me his name was Tem Maddox. Said he works in 'investment and consultations,' whatever the hell that means." The hurt that had come through in her voice was quickly covered up with indignant anger.

Perfect.

Decker stood up and moved to the front of the desk, "Ms. Carter-"

"Detective."

He choked back a sigh, that was not only annoying, but entirely unnecessary. "Detective," he corrected, keeping his tone neutral, "I apologize for having you escorted down here. I know this is unexpected news, but I need your help."

He waited silently. Watching her closely as he gave that power to her. She was smart enough to figure it out. Latch on to the opportunity he was giving her. What was that old saying? Hell has no wrath like a scorned woman…

She sat there for a long moment, looking at the picture of Peck, but not really seeing it. She was hurt – doing her best to cover it up – but he'd seen it too many times before. Exactly how attached had she become to him? All of the sightings of Peck had been within the last month. The fact that he'd stuck around for that long in and of itself was abnormal.

Finally she looked up at him, the hatred clear in her eyes, "He's a damn good liar, that's for sure."

There was nothing to say to that. She was just talking. Working through being used. Coming to terms with it.

"I'm not sure I can be of much assistance to you, Colonel." She handed the folder back.

Wrong answer.

He smiled at her; don't count yourself out too quickly. "Detective," he started softly as he put the folder back down on his desk and turned towards her. "Lieutenant Peck has managed to evade capture for a very, very long time. Right now, you can help bring him to justice."

He kept a smile off of his face as her eyes intensified at that. "When's the last time you saw him?"

She blushed just slightly at the question. No surprise there, he'd figured Peck wouldn't have stuck around for this long if he wasn't sleeping with her.

"Two days ago," she answered quietly.

He leaned forward and put a supportive hand on her shoulder, holding her gaze once she looked up at him. It took a minute for that vulnerability to resolve itself again. But eventually it did, and was replaced with a flicker of recognition and determination.

"I was planning to go camping," she started. Decker could see her putting things together as she spoke. "In Oregon. He didn't seem too enthusiastic when I had invited him along, but last time he called he seemed to have a change of heart about things. I – we – had planned on leaving this Friday." She finished more confidently than she had been since she walked through his door. And more importantly enthusiastic. In a way that only the chase brought. That glint in her eyes matched his.

He let a smile creep across his features as he clapped Alex on the back.

Let the games begin.

XXXXX

Rocks.

Face let out a disgusted sigh and kicked one as they traveled. This was _far_ beyond old. The silence, the suspicious glances, having his every move dictated, discussing what to do about him as though he wasn't _right_ there…

He needed out of here. Away from this. It was like a physical sensation. An achiness had set into his muscles, demanding to move freely. Man – he rolled his head around, stretching his neck against that need to move - this whole situation was… something beyond him at this point. He couldn't place it anymore. Instead he took a deep calming breath and held it for a moment before he let it out again.

Face kept his head bowed, eyes on the uneven ground as they traveled. He could feel Decker's gaze on him again. It was a brief this time around, nothing like the long hard scrutinizing stares that had taken in his every move yesterday. But it didn't exactly offer him the freedom he wanted.

He glanced up at Decker after a long moment. Just as he'd thought – Decker's gaze was fixed dead ahead.

Good. Keep your eyes on the prize. See how far that gets you.

He adjusted the rope in his hands so that it was against a very small, sharp rock that he'd gotten a hold of with a well timed trip this morning. It had taken every ounce of self control to wait until Decker had stopped watching him so closely to start working on cutting through the rope.

Between making sure to not attract Decker's attention, bathroom breaks, water stops, and making sure he didn't get tangled up or fall behind; progress on the rope had been slow. But now, he was almost through it. Another hour of this and the rope would be severed almost completely through. Just enough left holding it together that a firm tug on it would end their relationship.

He kicked another rock.

"We can pick up the pace if you're bored, Lieutenant."

Face stopped working on the rope immediately as he looked up and met Decker's smirk with a sneer. He bit back the first thing that came to mind and did his best to keep his tone neutral. It didn't work. "Dying of heatstroke isn't exactly on my list of activities to race into."

Decker turned back to face frontwards again. "I thought you'd be a little more anxious to see your new accommodations for the next twenty years."

Face's eyes narrowed at that. Decker really was an arrogant bastard. He kicked another rock a bit harder than before. "See, Decker, that's why they don't pay you to think."

"No. They pay me to catch fugitives."

Face stumbled as Decker gave a quick tug on the rope, snapping his wrists out ahead of him. Damn it! He got it. He was caught. He didn't need any more reminders of that fact.

He caught his step again and shot a glare up at Decker. "Riiight. I knew they had you doing _something_."

He clamped his eyes shut. Just stop. He could not afford to do this right now. Face took a deep breath. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Let it _go_. The last thing he wanted was another confrontation with Decker.

Face glanced back up at Decker who was again staring straight ahead. That was fine. It had probably been the longest exchange they'd had since the gag had almost become a reality and Face had no desire to push it.

A few minutes of silence broken only by the tail swooshing, hoof stomping, and occasional lip smacking sigh from the horses and Face adjusted the rock against the rope again. Slowly grating through the fibers as the progressed down the trail. It was tedious work. His hands had to be positioned just right to hide the rock and be able to work it through the rope. The guards behind him couldn't see what he was doing, but they would be watching him for suspicious activities. And at this point, pretty much anything could be considered suspicious.

Decker may not be paying too much attention to him at the moment, but that was a dynamic problem. And Face watching Decker too closely would get noticed. So it was a few minutes of work followed by an agonizingly lengthy period of nothing.

Hooves, tail swooshing, deep sighs from the horses, saddles creaking, and a soft tinkering that was slowly getting louder? Face looked up. What was that? It wasn't an animal of any sort. No, it was water.

Face took a deep breath as he found the source. Of course there would be a stream. There had never even been a discussion of detour for more water when he'd guzzles more than enough to make that a concern. How had he not thought of that? Decker obviously had. Planned this out to a degree of detail that almost daunting at this point. This had definitely not been your typical fly by the seat of your pants operation.

He came to a stop under the shade of a tree as Decker halted the group and handed his horse off to one of the other guards to bring to the stream. Face ignored Decker, watching the guards fill canteens instead. They were going to have to cross that stream.

Face stood there, his eyes loosing focus as he adjusted the rock away from the rope. This situation just kept getting worse. On top of everything else, now he was going to wind up tromping around in wet boots for the rest of the day. Unless, of course, Decker had an abrupt change of heart and diverted the travels to a point where Face could jump across some rocks. And even that meant taking the cuffs off in case he fell. And that _wasn't _going to happen.

"You might want to roll up those pants, Lieutenant." Decker's gravel voice cut through his thoughts.

Face glanced at Decker and back to the stream. "Right." It wasn't that deep, or wide for that matter. But hell, this is exactly what he didn't need. It was going to be hard enough to take his boots off and roll up his jeans with his hands cuffed. Do that and try to hide the rock he shouldn't be hanging on to – he was going to have to ditch the rock.

Perfect. He felt Decker's casual stare turn into a deep scrutinizing one. He'd stalled too long. What the hell was the matter with him? It wasn't like Decker was a force to be reckoned with.

He lowered himself to the ground, watching Decker as he brought his hands down – on the side away from Decker – and dropped the rock. There was no point in even trying to hang on to it or slip it into his pocket. Decker would see that and right now his best bet was to placate the man with compliance.

He drew his leg up, doing his best to ignore Decker's constant gaze as he took his boots and socks off. He forced himself to relax under that scrutinizing stare as he finished rolling up his jeans. His eyes catching that rock one last time as he set the boots aside. Looks like they'd be parting company a bit prematurely.

Decker stepped towards him, "Get up."

Face took a deep breath in and glared up at Decker for a moment – this was getting old- he stayed quiet though and after a second slowly stood back up. Decker grabbed the cuffs and jerked him forward. Face bit back a curse as his wrists protested the rough treatment. He swallowed – hard- as Decker grabbed the rope and looked at it. The fraying where he'd been cutting through it was obvious. He braced himself, felt his eyes begin to lose focus even as his heart started to pound in his chest.

"Planning on going somewhere, Lieutenant?" Face's back slammed into the tree as Decker straight armed his chest. His wrists snapping forward with so much force that he thought for a second they'd break. Instead the frayed section of the rope snapped and Decker's forearm was against his throat, "I am getting VERY tired of this game, Peck!"

The muscles in his throat strained against the crushing force. He caught the blaze of anger in Decker's eyes and kept his hands down, his body limp, even as the arm was pressed so deep into his throat he almost coughed. It didn't matter, it was an empty threat and they both knew it. He kept his features neutral, and let Decker 'establish control' for the moment.

"Let me make something very clear to you, Lieutenant." Decker's gravel voice was as close to a whisper as it got, "You're wanted dead or alive. Now, I would rather see you rot in a prison for the rest of your life than to have to carry your corpse all the way back to my superiors," Face's jaw clenched even tighter as the pressure on his throat increased, "But if you run from this party, so help me, I will shoot you straight through the head. And I will be perfectly justified in doing it."

The pressure released from Face's throat long enough for Decker to grab his shirt and throw him to the ground. Face rolled with it, surprised by the force behind it. Bullshit Decker was gonna shoot him in the head. Did the colonel think he was a complete idiot? He pushed himself off the dirt to his elbows; he was getting _very _tired of being thrown around. He felt the anger boiling up from deep within him again.

"I don't know." He slowly stood back up, his stomach tense with adrenaline. "That's an awful lot of paperwork, Rod."

Decker stepped in close, toe to toe with him, pulling himself to what had to be his full height, Face felt his back straighten, chest expand, and his eyes narrow as Decker encroached on his personal space. "It's an inconvenience for BOTH of us, Lieutenant. Don't make the mistake of thinking I don't mean what I say." Decker stared him down. "Escaping prisoners have been shot before, and nobody would shed any tears for you."

"Don't make the mistake of thinking _nobody_ would miss me, Rod."

Face's back hit the ground with a dull thud, his chest aching from the force of Decker's blow, "Siddown, boy. And wait 'til I fucking call you."

His eyes blazed as they locked onto Decker. He hadn't been called 'boy' since basic training. His body taught with tension, muscles distended with adrenaline, his jaw clenched as he pushed himself back up. "You had better be prepared to back that up, _Rod_."

Face felt the gun buried in his ribs before he even had time to react. He froze, eyes lock on Decker. He was taking this a bit far. The sound of the gun being cocked back echoed in his ears and he felt the blood drain from him even as his heart pounded in his chest. He stood there, rigid, not moving a muscle as Decker pushed into him until they were nose to nose.

"I said sit your lying, traitorous, fugitive ass down! I am NOT going to tell you again, boy."

He had to be bluffing. But there was nothing in Decker's eyes to call. Stone cold and dead serious. Face nodded and slowly raised his hand up as he took a slight step back. Just enough so that the gun was no longer pressed into his ribs.

Decker stared him down, taking a step back and holstering the gun only after Face lowered himself to the ground. He turned towards the creek, "If he tries anything stupid, you have my direct orders to shoot him."

Face had no choice but to sit there. Knees drawn up, elbows resting on them with his hands on top of his head as he stared at the dirt between his feet. Fenlup and Dobbs were near him. Not that it mattered. He wasn't going anywhere. Decker had him plain and simple and nothing to rectify that situation was working. Frustrated did not even begin to cover.

And all for a damn woman.

"Lieutenant!"

Face shut his eyes as Decker's gravelly voice cut through the silence. He did not want to deal with this. Finally he pulled his hands off of the top of his head and looked over to find Decker crouching near him.

"Where is it?"

"What?"

Decker's tone was neutral, but it was clear he meant business, "Whatever you used to cut the rope."

That. Face turned his gaze back to the dirt between his feet, shaking his head slightly. The hell with that. Decker had already won; did he really need to rub his face in it?

"Strip him."

Rough hands grabbed his arms and started pulling him to his feet. Damn it! Couldn't they leave him the hell alone for a whole twenty minutes?

"_Alright_!" He threw a quick glance at the guards before catching Decker's eye. A slight nod from Decker to the guards and he was sitting on the ground again.

"I palmed a rock. It's by the tree next to my boots." Face let out a frustrated sigh and ran a hand over his face, his nails raking through his beard as he stared at Decker. He'd lost this already. Why did confessing make it so much worse?

"Dobbs." Decker jerked his head towards the tree and the guard took off. Face didn't bother watching. The whole charade was done the moment Decker had seen that frayed rope. Holding out wouldn't get him anywhere and he knew it.

A wry humorless smirk crossed Face's features as Decker reached up and pulled the rope off of his shoulder. "Don't you think that bullet in the back of the head is more effective?"

Face glanced around him as the MP's moved to cover him in case he tried anything. That was… amusing at best. There was no point in fighting Decker on this. He held out his hands as Decker tied the new lead around the cuffs. On some level he understood completely that it was simply a tool to keep him from going anywhere. On another level entirely, it grated on him, made his skin crawl. It defied any reasoning or rationality and he had no choice in the matter. It was there. The most he could do was push it down until it didn't matter and he could control it.


	9. Chapter 9

The long awaited chapter 7. RL has been crazy, and I must apologize for such a long absence. The next several chapters, at first glance, don't need nearly as much work as this one did. Thank-you to everyone who continued to pester me about getting this book done. The encouragement is always appreciated.

Chapter 7

Face smiled as Alex backed him against a tree. Eyes dancing and full of mischief. She was definitely giving him a whole new appreciation for nature. Out here, in the middle of nowhere, where the only way to stay warm was to exchange body heat. She'd already proven to be feisty – in and out of bed. He looked her up and down again. Slowly. Letting her feel his appraising eyes on her before he leaned in. His voice was just above a whisper as he let his lips brush softly against hers. "How often do you come out here?"

"Often enough."

"Is that so?"

"It is."

He brought his hands to her hips. A second later, she closed hers around his wrists, a bit tighter than strictly playful and pushed his hands back until they were against the tree behind him. There was an edge to her confidence out here that hadn't been there before. Maybe it was the environment. Whatever had caused it, Face liked it. He knew her game. He didn't often get to play it, but it was a thrill when he did. He let her hold him there as she came in close, rubbing her body against him, teasing lightly, testing his reaction. He pressed his lips against hers - soft and tender. Which way did she want to take this? Half the fun was figuring his playmate out, and that twinkle in her eyes was just what he'd expected. In fact, it was just what he'd been hoping for.

"You ever going to give me a straight answer?" he pressed.

A soft sigh escaped him as she pulled away. The memories of their past sexual encounters only made the anticipation greater. He kept his hands where she had put them even as she let his wrists go and glanced down to see her fingers working slowly to unclasp his belt. That sigh turned into a groan. He could feel the warmth of her hand as she cupped him, firmly massaging him as she unbuttoned his jeans.

"When are you..." she started. His thoughts scattering as her touch became more firm. He groaned and tipped his head back against the tree as his surroundings slowly disappeared as all of his attention focused on what she was doing to him. "...Going to tell me your real name?"

Her voice was soft and sultry, distant in his mind as the warm electrical buzz was starting to flow throughout all his nerves. His eyes slid shut as she pulled her hand away from him. He pushed his hips out, wanting more of that warm contact. Images of that swimsuit falling off of her and what was under it.

Names. He forced himself to try and focus. She had wanted names. Did she want to play? "Jason Aines. Commercial real estate investor." he offered, his voice still airy, or did she want someone less safe? "Lance Forester. Covert government agent."

"How about, Lieutenant Templeton Peck."

His breath faltered as his attention snapped back onto her. What did she know? Couldn't be much, she'd come out here all alone with him, and that was not something you did with a known fugitive. She knew something though - her eyes had narrowed at him, not even a hint of eroticism anymore.

He let a smile creep across his face, as though she hadn't said anything particularly worrisome in the least. But he was acutely aware of his surroundings. No noise. The birds weren't chirping, squirrels weren't scurrying across the ground. Everything was unnaturally still and now every nerve in his body was on edge trying to find the real threat.

He moved quickly. No time for her to react as he grabbed her wrists, taking a step forward -

The loud crank of a shotgun round getting pumped into the chamber stopped him cold. Hell. How bad off was he right now? He released the grip he had on her wrists, but she didn't back away from him. She either had a lot of confidence in her partner, or figured Face for a pushover.

"Turn around Lieutenant," she ordered.

What would she do if he didn't? Didn't matter; he still didn't know where her partner was. Somewhere to his left, but that wasn't good enough to take that kind of a risk.

"Against the tree. Hands behind your head."

He complied slowly, searching the trees as he pressed his chest against the rough bark. There was her backup - eight feet away, casually leaning on his own tree.

Alex's hand covered his. "Spread 'em." Her voice was cold, well practiced commands. "Chase, give me the cuffs."

Face watched as her partner pushed himself off the tree and walked slowly towards them, shotgun in hand. He slid his feet out a couple of inches. Would she call him on it?

Her grip tightened over his laced fingers. "Stop playing games. You know the drill."

Apparently she would.

Face exhaled sharply. Her partner wasn't close enough yet to make a grab for the gun. With his options limited he finally spread his feet apart, past his shoulders this time. He could overpower her no matter what. She wasn't armed, he knew that for sure. All he had to worry about was Chase, who was still out of range. That would change.

She brought his left arm down behind him. Her arm cradled his, trapping his elbow on the inside of hers so her body controlled his arm. His brow furrowed, that was a professional move, not something a weekend seminar on how to be a bounty hunter taught. If he turned into her, she'd be able to take him down.

Her right hand finally released his from behind his head as Chase handed her the cuffs. Face made sure not to make eye contact, watching closely out of the corner of his eye, as he came in close to her. Perfect, just stay right there. Face kept his arms flaccid, doing nothing to raise her suspicion of him.

God damn it, how could he have been so dumb?

His eyes narrowed as she slapped the cuff around his right wrist. He let her bring his arm down behind his back, the back of his hand towards his spine. That was no good. Much harder to escape.

He kept his chest on the tree. Quick. Before either of them could react, he slid his right foot to his left and around the outside of the tree. He pulled his arms forward and out of her grip as he spun behind her and shoved her forward, into her partner before Chase could aim the gun again.

He could feel his jeans working their way down his waist as he tackled both of them. He straddled Chase. He wasn't worried about Alex. No matter what her training, his was far superior.

Face grabbed the gun, fighting for control. Damn it! Chase was too strong for this sort of grappling. He needed to end this _now._He put all of his weight into the struggle. His damn pants were sliding too far down, restricting his movement. This was taking too long. Where was Alex? He glanced around to find her. The last thing he needed was a tree limb upside the head. She wasn't there. It didn't make any sense for her to leave.

No! His balance left him and suddenly he was on his back. The gun scattered away from them and Face pushed his hips out, away from Chase before the guy could straddle him. Chase's fist connected with his jaw.

This needed to end. _Now_! Face drew his knees up, planting his feet firmly on the ground, he shoved his forearm against the guy's chest, forcing him back against his knees. Face hooked his outside leg up and around Chase's throat, tightened the choke. He could've killed bastard right there. Instead, he forced his legs back down to the ground, rolling on top of his opponent.

Something solid caught him in the ribs. Hard. He fell away from the blow, rolling until he was on his hands and knees. Fatigues. Military. Oh, hell.

"Freeze, Lieutenant."

The unmistakable gravel voice cut through the air and Face stopped where he was. Decker didn't travel alone. Face didn't have to look around to know that he was surrounded. He didn't resist as he was shoved to the ground.

Whatever happened to five days of fucking under the stars? He groaned as his left wrist was wrapped in the same cool metal that already held his right. Why did this always have to happen to him?

"Get his gun."

The MPs on either side of him jerked him to his feet once the cuffs were on. He smirked knowingly as they frisked him. He hadn't exactly been expecting this; they turned up empty handed. Face eyed Decker for a moment, his fingers finding a belt loop to keep his pants from falling any further down his waist.

How many of them were there? They'd materialized out of nowhere. He glanced around. Eight? They were sorting through the camping equipment that had been haphazardly thrown to the ground in favor of other, more... stimulating activities. A couple were checking on Chase, who was still on the ground. Face kept a smug smile off of his features at that.

Decker looked him up and down. "Where's the pistol, Lieutenant? I know you wouldn't have come out here without it."

"What reason could I have possibly had to pack a gun?"

"You really want to leave it here in the woods for some kid to stumble on?"

What the hell did he have to play that card for? His eyes cut over to Alex as she stepped towards him. Whatever her role in this, it was clear in her eyes that she was beyond pissed off right now. She glared at him from a few feet away. That was cute. Pissed, but too scared to come close enough to be any real threat.

Decker. Face forced his attention back to the colonel instead of trying put all the pieces together. He was still waiting for an answer and there was really no point in refusing right now. "I stashed it in an old rabbit hole."

Alex smirked wryly at that as she turned towards Decker. "He went about a hundred feet past the back of the tent. It was the only chance he had to stash anything."

Decker motioned to a few of the MPs to go check it out, then returned his gaze to Face again. "I suppose I should thank you for being so predictable. You really made this easy."

"Yeah? Keep in mind how these things tend to end for you." Face rocked a bit on the balls of his feet. "Gotta throw you a bone every once in a while or we'd all get bored."

Alex stared at him for a moment with a mix of anger and an absolute inability to understand how he could be exchanging sarcastic remarks with a man that had just, for all intense and purposes, "arrested" him.

"You do understand that you're going to jail for a long, long time?" she shot at him.

If Face's smile could have managed to get any bigger or more confident, it did. There was a playful twinkle in his eye as he looked her up and down. He still didn't know just how she fit into this. "It's been tried before, sweetie." He cocked his head towards Decker. "Ask him; he keeps a tally."

"Enjoy your laughs now," Decker answered with a glare. "The next twenty years are going to be mighty uncomfortable for you."

Alex gave her own bright smile. "I think we can rectify that score. Look around:"

Face didn't need to look around. There were eight of them in all. Two were searching for his gun, which they wouldn't find. Two were standing right in front of him, less than amused with the exchange. Chase had finally made it to his feet with the assistance of two others. Add to that the direction of the sun, time of day, position of the horses, what camp equipment was where and knowledge of exactly where everything that may even be remotely useful to him at this point in time... he was well aware of things.

"You're surrounded. Alone. Unarmed. Handcuffed. And this close to being pantless." She raised her brow at him. "That's score one for the good guys in my book."

"That book hasn't been approved by the editor for publishing, honey."

Decker nodded for the guards on either side of Face to take him to the horses. "Let's move."

"Actually, it's Detective."

Face's eyes narrowed at that, refusing to move as the guards pulled on his arms. Detective meant local law. Since when did law enforcement agencies play well together? How had he not seen that? His smile lost the friendly playfulness it had had as he studied her. "You earn that shield on your back or you just can't figure out how to rank up anymore?"

The MPs didn't wait for him to comply with their efforts to get him moving towards the horses. They would have been perfectly content to drag him along had he continued to fight them. He shoved the anger back down. It had caught him off guard, plain and simple. Nothing more.

Alex followed close behind as the guards moved him towards the horses. "Seems to me you're the one who uses sex as a tool. I got my shield by being damn good at my job and hard work. A concept you know nothing about."

Face smiled at the hard edge in her tone. "You're damn good at something. I don't know if it's in your job description, though."

"I'm good enough to catch you. Think about that everyday for the next thirty years. Because while you're spending your days in a nine by five cell wondering how to keep the big boys occupied, I'll be enjoying my freedom. I. Win. Peck." She finished with a nasty smile as they came to a stop near the horses.

Face almost rolled his eyes at that. Jail. Yes. He got it. They were going to take him to jail. Like they always were. "Thirty years, sweetie? Did I just get ten years added to my sentence? If I did, I can think of any number of things I could do to actually deserve it. But since there was no cash exchange here, soliciting can't be on that list."

He glanced over to Decker as the colonel rummaged through the saddlebags on the horse. Quick movement from Alex out of the corner of his eye caught his attention and his head snapped to the side as her fist connected with his jaw. Decker stepped forward with surprising speed as Face stumbled, biting back a groan and muting any reaction to the throbbing in his jaw as Decker moved Alex back.

He knew he was pushing, but he hadn't expected her to punch him. What happened to professionalism? He shook his head and narrowed his eyes on her for a moment as she argued, out of earshot, with Decker. How much did she hate letting him antagonize her until she actually swung on him? As much pride as she had in her control...

He clamped his jaw down – ow! There was a sharp pain digging into his gums. What was that from? He ran his tongue along his teeth. A loose cap, damn it. He was getting tired of going to the dentist twenty times a year for new caps. Eventually even he ran out of good cover stories.

Even at this distance he could see how angry she was. Tight jawline, narrow eyes, and a nice vein starting to show in her forehead. What would it take to get her to swing on Decker?

Apparently, more than Decker was willing to give. The colonel took a step back and turned towards Face again. "Make sure you take his belt and the contents of all his pockets before you get him up on that horse. I don't want any surprises."

Decker glanced around at the MP's. "Let's go! Break down this camp and let's get out of here!" He turned around, grumbling as he headed off in the direction the other two MPs had gone. "They find that damn gun yet?"

Face stood quietly as he worked that cap off the rest of the way and let it settle between his cheek and gum line. The guards were going through his pockets. They pulled a few useless things out - coins, a paperclip. Damn, he could have used that. And his lighter. He watched that closely as they tossed it into a saddlebag on a different horse. His belt was the last to go and shortly after Decker returned.

"Alright, Lieutenant. Perhaps you'd like to show me where this gun is."

"Perhaps you'd like to let me put my clothes back on." He smiled. A little tat for tat never hurt anything. And giving Decker's position of authority some credibility right now might work in his favor – especially if he was already dealing with some sort of power struggle with Alex.

Decker nodded to the MP on Face's right and the guard reached for Face's pants. Before he even had time to consciously think about it, the urge to flee – irrational and unfounded – hit him and he took a hard step back. Away from the advancement. Their grip on his arms tightened, holding him there.

Face took a deep breath and pushed that uneasy feeling back down where it wasn't gripping him like a vice anymore. He was relieved when Decker waved the guard off. "Leave them, then. Doesn't bother me."

What the hell was he doing? He was supposed to be playing nice with Decker. Working his way into the colonel's good graces and out of these cuffs. That was a calculated game. Not reactionary. Decker grabbed his arm where the other MP had let go and shoved him none to gently in the direction of the tent. "Where's the gun, Lieutenant?"

Face's fingers found as many belt loops as he could as Decker walked him behind the campsite. He pushed that uneasy feeling down until it was completely gone, then looked around for a moment, stalling as he schooled that casual confidence back into everything he did. "It's around here somewhere..."

"You have two minutes to remember exactly where."

Face sighed. There was nothing to be gained from stalling right now other than to reestablish their roles in this situation. Playing games would only irritate Decker, and he didn't need the man dogging him any more than he already was. He took a few steps over to a large group of rocks that were partially covered by ferns and other overgrowth. "It's under here."

Decker pulled him back, out of range, as one of the MP's carefully looked under the rock. Face watched with stony silence as they uncovered a nicely burrowed out hole that not only held his gun, but his lock picks. His jaw set slightly. He hadn't planned on needing either of those things. The only reason he'd packed them was long engrained habit. Either way, those items had never been meant to fall into anyone else's hands, let alone Decker's.

"Alright. Let's get out of here." Decker ordered as he turned Face around in the direction of the horses again.

Face smiled at Alex as he passed her. Detective or not, she was looking at him as though she'd never been part of an investigation, let alone an arrest, before. Granted, this wasn't her typical day in the office by any stretch of the imagination. Add to that the fact that Face was well acquainted with these sparring matches and Alex wound up looking as though she was entirely out of place.

As soon as they came to the horses, Decker gestured for a couple MPs to get behind him and pointed to the stirrup. "Put your foot in the stirrup so we can get you on this horse."

Face stood there for a moment, his gaze jumping from the stirrup to Decker's hard stare. His hands were behind him. That wasn't exactly ideal for horseback riding.

"Unless you'd rather walk."

"I'm sure there's a third option here."

"No. There's not. What's it going to be, Lieutenant?"

"How about you cuff me to the saddle horn and, that way, when Mr. Ed over here decides to cop an attitude, I don't get thrown off and break my neck."

"On or off, Lieutenant. That horse will have no reason to throw you as long as you behave."

Face grumbled. "Tell that to John Wayne." He could hear the irritation at the lack of negotiation slipping into his voice. Having his hands cuffed in front of him wasn't that much of a compromise, and it wasn't going to happen.

He stared at Decker for a moment longer, but there really was no recourse here. Finally he shook his head and turned to face the side of the horse. He had no choice but to lift his foot and place it in the stirrup. Then, ever so helpful hands were on his back pushing up and lifting, giving him the leverage and balance he needed to mount the horse.

Face was still adjusting his weight in the saddle when Decker took the reins in his hands. The colonel didn't bother to wait or even look to see if Face was ready before pulling the horse a few steps closer to his. "Alright. Let's go."

XXXXX

Face stared up at the stars that poked between the branches. It was a clear, crisp night, disturbed only by frogs, crickets, the popping of the campfire, and chains that announced his every. Fucking. Move.

He let out a deep, exsanguinating sigh. He'd given up on sleeping a while ago. In the hours that had passed since the last confrontation with Decker, the colonel hadn't taken his eyes off him for more than a couple minutes. He could feel the steely blue eyes on him even now. Eventually the man had to sleep. But it hadn't happened yet.

Not that it mattered a whole hell of a lot. He had no doubt that the orders to shoot if he tried anything would be followed. He couldn't move anyway. Decker had made sure of that when he'd secured the handcuffs to his waist with a belly chain. It made lying down impossible. And if he had thought dodging rocks, twigs, and dirt clods had been irritating before, not being able to move his hands more than two inches from his body made getting even remotely comfortable impossible. He'd finally just sat up and leaned his back against the tree. In the end, it turned out that arrangement hadn't made sleep come any easier than the night before.

He watched the camp through half open eyes, more out of habit than anything. The sheriff and the two MP's were sleeping, and had been for a while. He'd lost track of how many days he'd been out here. Six maybe. Either way, it was getting close to the end of the road. He had planned on being out here for a week. Which meant Hannibal wouldn't know that something was wrong until after Decker already had him in a cell. Escaping from a military prison was something most people didn't successfully do once, let alone twice. He'd play against the house on that front any day of the week, though. A body bag didn't trump much, but it did have a leg up on prison.

Movement caught his eye and Face watched with vague disinterest as Decker approached him. The colonel stood over him for a moment. "Trouble sleeping, Lieutenant?"

Face raised his brow at that. Wasn't that the intended goal? He watched the colonel for a long moment. It had been a question, not an order. Even the tone indicated nothing more. It was the first time since this whole nightmare had begun that it wasn't an order of some sort.

Decker hesitated for a moment. Odd. "Get up." Decker reached into his pocket.

Not sure what to make of this, Face stalled for a moment. He didn't really feel like dealing with Decker right now, but the man wasn't going away, and his options were more than a little limited. Fine. He rolled up onto his knees and a second later was standing. He turned towards Decker and waited.

He remained still as Decker took a step towards him and grabbed the chain around Face's waist, slid the key from his pocket into the lock, and turned it until it clicked, unlatching the chain that kept his wrists against his stomach. Decker exchanged a skeptical glance with Face, and put the key back into his pocket before gesturing towards the campfire.

Face fought to keep a smirk off his face at that. Decker was a lot of things, but he wasn't stupid and he wasn't dumb enough to lead the way. Even with Face still cuffed – or maybe because of it- he was still plenty dangerous.

He stood there for a second longer, unsure of how to proceed. He brought his hands up to rub his face- his beard had become a constant source of irritation over the past few days- as he tried to read Decker. He got nowhere with that and finally took a step towards the campfire. He glanced back at Decker – who remained a few steps behind him all the way to the fire pit - on a few occasions as he walked. Finally he turned towards the colonel as they reached the fire.

Decker nodded towards the ground. "Sit."

Face bristled. God, he hated this. His sparring matches with Decker had gotten him nowhere except tied up, but the colonel's constant reminders that the he was a prisoner without any rights or say so, were more than a little aggravating. He stared at Decker for a moment, debating which way to take this. They'd already been down this road and he'd lost. He fought back a glance at the tree. Which was worse? Decker or not sleeping against an evergreen? He swallowed and lowered himself to the ground. Either way, he'd be back to the tree by the end of this.

"You know, I've always enjoyed a nice campfire, but I think the chains are setting the wrong mood."

Decker sat down on a log nearby. "Sorry, Lieutenant," he grabbed a canteen and held it out to Face, "the handcuffs stay on."

Face smirked. He hadn't expected anything else. "Can't blame a guy for trying." He took the canteen, glad for the drink. He didn't bother giving it back to Decker when he was done.

Face watched Decker for a long moment. There had to be a reason for Decker to have let him up. Eventually the colonel would show his hand. Until then, Face had no problem waiting. It was simply a matter of time.

Decker, for his part, didn't seem particularly uncomfortable or to even have an ulterior motive. It was a long moment before he finally did speak. "When's the first time you were arrested?"

Face's eyes jerked up to Decker's. That was not a question he'd ever expected to have asked. There was a lot of paperwork, not to mention people, who had made sure his juvenile record never saw the light of day. "You've got my file. Don't tell me you haven't read it."

"I have." Decker nodded his agreement. "That's why I was surprised when your name came up in regards to McKlaren's Youth Authority Boy's Camp."

Face swallowed, lowering his eyes to the fire. That's what this was about. He could feel his muscles starting move – an instinctual need to get away from the topic – even as he forced himself with every ounce of control he had to stay exactly where he was.

"Colonel." His voice was cold and eyes blank. "I may be a captive audience right now, but if you're banking on me granting you an exclusive interview, you can think again." It was as close to a threat as anything else Face had ever said and he felt absolutely no remorse for it.

He watched Decker for a long moment, almost daring the colonel to pursue it further. Whatever information Decker had managed to find, Face had no control over. Decker could play that card once and he'd be sorely disappointed in the reaction it brought from Face. Face, however, had no intention of humoring the topic in the least. He'd shut it down a long time ago and steadfastly refused even the slightest acknowledgment of it.

They sat there for a long time, an uncomfortable silence hanging over them. He was growing wary of the hard, scrutinizing stares. He ignored Decker and ran his hands through his hair. It was by far unkempt – days of going unwashed, matted with sweat and dirt. His scalp itched, his face itched, and his wrists hurt. He'd spent the first part of this ordeal making sure Decker had no indication of how uncomfortable he was, but it seemed like a moot point now.

"If it's any consolation to you, Lieutenant," Face stopped moving around as Decker spoke again, "she was very disappointed to learn that you'd played her."

He locked eyes with Decker, not sure if it had been an insult, a comfort, or a question. "Yeah?" Face brought up the cuffs, putting his restrained hands on display. "I think she got over it."

Decker looked to the fire. "It was your call to begin with, you know." His voice was low, but non-threatening. "You played her, she played you." He looked back at Face. "What goes around comes around, Lieutenant."

Face's eyes narrowed a bit at that. What was this? A simple 'you're getting what you deserve' lecture or some half-assed commentary on his personal life? Did Decker really think he could claim the high road here? "I guess the both of you can send me thank you cards when you get promoted." He choked the irritation out of his voice. "Granted, I hadn't realized shields were being purchased by casual sex with the target." He trailed off.

Decker raised a brow at him. "She didn't consider you a target until after she found out that you'd manipulated her. Whatever casual sex you might've had, it had nothing to do with her promotion. And certainly not mine. You did this to yourself, Peck."

He scoffed. "Yeah, you're right, you caught me half undressed out here because she _wasn__'__t_playing the 'fuck me' card." This time the irritation was loud and clear and he didn't care.

Decker's eyes narrowed slightly. "Well, gee, Lieutenant," the sarcasm cut through the night air, "you must've really pissed her off somehow between the hot tub and the tree in the woods. What do you suppose set her off?"

Face's ear perked. What? How did Decker know about the hot tub? Alex didn't seem like the type to offer up details like that to just anyone. He locked eyes with Decker. How much did he know – and _why_? It had to have something to do with the heavy-handed character defamation Decker was throwing his way. He plastered on a grin. "Couldn't have been the sex, that's for sure." The smile on his lips turned into a leer. "She screamed just like a porn star." He watched intently, not entirely sure what he was looking for.

Decker didn't flinch, in fact, he seemed rather unimpressed. "That is something _you_would be proud of."

Face smiled at the cheap shot. Had he really been expecting much more? He hesitated for a moment, not sure how much further he wanted to pursue this. But there was something more to this. He could feel it. Some sort of overt protectiveness towards Alex? Or was it women that he'd bedded in general? He shrugged. "I guess she served a purpose for both of us, then, huh?"

Decker's glare intensified at the implication. "I would have thought Father Maghill had instilled higher values in you."

Face felt himself flinch at that – he caught it before it became visible on any level- and raised a brow. Their normally frank 'fuck you' routine had taken a new turn. A jab at his moral convictions, his personal life, his _childhood_even? It was an unusual tactic –by far unexpected- but he didn't mind the challenge. And in the end it was just that: a _tactic_. _You__wanna__hit__below__the__belt,__Decker?_ A verbal sparring match would be a welcome change. He could, without a doubt, take this up a notch.

"I wouldn't talk if I were you, Decker. Like I said, she served a purpose for _both_of us."

Face watched as Decker's glare intensified ever so slightly at the accusation. "I would tread carefully, Lieutenant, before comparing casual sex under false pretenses with capturing a fugitive."

Face shrugged and looked into the fire. Pushing too hard wouldn't get him anywhere - except perhaps back to that tree. "I wanted her for her body." He shrugged again. "You wanted her for her proximity to me. Either way, she was a pawn."

Decker didn't take his eyes off him. "I think the fact that she was informed and then _chose_to help me catch you, pretty thoroughly negates her role on my end of things as a pawn."

Face looked back up at him.

"Nullifies any comparison, Lieutenant."

Face felt his jaw clench at that and lost his train of thought. Something was off about that. He hadn't figured that Decker had forced, coerced, or manipulated her in to helping him in the first place. He felt his eyes lose focus as he wandered back to getting caught. _Something__… _Chose. She fucking _chose_ Decker. Son of... he pulled himself out of it.

"Tell me something, Decker." He glanced up at him, letting his gaze linger. He knew his eyes were empty, unreadable. "Did you get a hard-on telling her that she was just one more of my fly-by-night cons? Did you two share an intimate moment, bonding over how I've managed to fuck you both over?" His eyes flashed. "You may very well get the last word, Decker. But I've sure as hell had a lot more _toys_, and a hell of a lot more fun getting them."

Decker broke away from the hard stare. "That's enough, Lieutenant."

Face raised his brow and ignored the authority the tone carried. Decker had looked away first. "What's the matter, Colonel?" He chose his words carefully, walking that fine line as he pushed. "Did she cry on your shoulder? Did you tell her not to feel so bad? That I've gotten the best of everyone - including you?"

"Do not make the mistake of thinking that I take _any_ pleasure in cleaning up after you." Decker's tone no longer held anything but authority and anger. "I would have at least thought you'd have the decency to feel some remorse for all the lives you've trampled on."

"Remorse has never been my strong suit. It's too much like regret."

Decker locked eyes with Face. "That right there is the reason that locking your lying, cheating, manipulative ass behind bars is going to mean so much."

Face's eyes darkened as a wicked smile crept across his face and his eyes seared into Decker. "You know, if I didn't know better, I'd think _you_ were taking this personally. Did you _fuck_her after she cried on your shoulder?"

"_Enough._"

"Did you?" Wait, what did he just ask? What the hell?

"You sure as hell don't listen well, do you?" Face sat there even as Decker stood. "Get up."

Face stared up at him. The answer was in the refusal. In the fire in Decker's eyes. It hit him so hard he didn't even try to cover up his surprise. "You did, didn't you?"

"Get up, Lieutenant."

All of a sudden he was numb. None of this made any sense. "Why?"

Decker crouched down in from of him and stared intently at him. Face stared back at him blankly. "Now, you can either get up, or you can go oh-for-three with these little power plays you seem to be so fond of."

The words fell around him, not making a connection as he sat there trying to wrap his head around this new turn. None of this made any sense. It didn't matter to him anyway, so why did he care?

Decker stood up, and suddenly Face's hands were pulled out in front of him. The force of it jerked him to his feet and he stumbled forward, almost falling back down. He moved forward in a daze as the colonel pushed him towards that tree. And spun him around.

Face pushed off the tree – launching into Decker so fast the colonel didn't have a chance to blink, much less realize he was moving. His cuffed hands - like a weapon- went over Decker's head. He took half a step to the side and jabbed his heel into the back of Decker's knee. Decker's knees hit the ground and Face fell onto his calves – pinning the colonel down as he pulled the cuffs tight into Decker's throat.

Decker grabbed the cuffs and rolled into him before he had a chance to go for the gun. Face rolled with it; he wasn't letting go. He pulled as tight as could, keeping Decker's head as close to his chest as he could manage. The colonel fought him, threw elbows into him, grabbed at his dirty matted hair. He didn't care.

Shouting seeped into his brain. Pain erupted in his wrists. And what? What the hell was he doing? He was going to _kill_Decker. He froze. Reality caught up to him, Decker broke free, and Face gave him a shove- put some distance between them.

The shouts from the MPs made no sense.

Face sat up just in time for Decker to slam into him. He fell back. Didn't resist – even as Decker pinned his hands above his head. Decker punched him in the face- again and again. He brought his elbows up to shield himself when the assault didn't stop.

"Colonel, stop!" The MPs were shouting –frantic, and this time not at him. A second later Decker was pulled off of him. Face stayed down- the shotgun the sheriff had trained on him reinforced that. He could feel blood trickling over his face, but didn't care enough to explore the damage.

Decker stared down at him. "God damn it." He shook off the MPs holding his arms and took a deep breath. "Tie him up." The tone was low, almost dejected.

Face didn't resist as they pulled him up. He held Decker's gaze, eyes blazing, but he didn't say a word. He spat on the ground at Decker's feet as the MP's pulled him past the colonel to the tree. They released his hands long enough to pull the cuffs over a branch above his head. Decker finally broke the stare as he turned back to the campfire, grabbing his hat as he went.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 8

Decker sat across the diner table from Alex. Maddry's Applewood Family Diner was a step above your typical all night diner, but it was definitely not going to get any five star reviews. It had been a choice made of necessity more than anything. There weren't a lot of options at twenty-three hundred hours on a weekday. Not that served more than appetizers. But it was a necessary break from the constant planning that had consumed the past few days.

There was something to be said for taking a step back from everything. Go into it tomorrow with fresh eyes to see if they'd missed anything. He'd be surprised if they had. He'd been on missions in Vietnam that had less planning than this little operation. And having an inside source, especially one as incisive as Alex had turned out to be, was invaluable.

It had been a rough couple of days, all told. Long hours of research, fact checking, maps, routes, who to take, and what each person needed to do. And that didn't take into account personal feelings. Decker's own were well known and and festered in bitter resentment. Finally putting the A-Team behind bars – where they _belonged –_ was all the validation he needed.

This was all new for Alex, though. It was obvious that she had cared about Peck. Whatever lines he had fed her, to string her along like that, feed into her emotions. Decker's brow creased. Nobody deserved to be put through that. Manipulated only to be tossed aside. He could feel that anger and injustice boiling back. Peck belonged behind bars, where he couldn't hurt anyone again. And Decker had yet to make that happen.

"How are you holding up?"

She blinked a couple times, her eyes coming back into focus before she looked up at Decker and shook her head slightly. A shy smile pulled at the corner of her mouth, "I'm sorry. What did you just ask?"

Decker smiled. Trying to offer her some form of comfort as he held her eyes. "I was just wondering how you were doing with this." He set his utensils down on the empty plate. "It's a lot to deal with."

"I'm still a bit shocked by all of it." She dropped her eyes to her empty wine glass, her voice quieting, "You must think I'm an idiot."

"Not at all, Alex."

Decker stayed silent while the waiter cleared the table. Peck used and abused women without any regard for the emotional aftermath. Spinning lie after lie – whatever would get him what he wanted. It was despicable.

"Peck's a first class liar. It's what he does. You are just the latest in a long line of woman he's used." He looked at her for a moment, offering her some reassurance and strength. "The difference between you and them is you could be the last."

She studied him, silent eyes tracking across his face. Both open and guarded at the same time. Trying to figure out if he was feeding her lies? Probably. Peck had burned her, hard with his lies. She wouldn't soon forget it. Decker wouldn't do that, though. He wasn't Peck, and he let her see that as she held his gaze.

Her hand slid on top of his as she realized he wasn't lying. "Thank you."

He smiled a bit at the feel of her soft skin, unexpected and warm, and turned his palm up before he could think better of it, his thumb settling on the back of her hand. "Don't thank me, Alex. I'm just doing my job. You're the one making a difference when you don't have to. That's admirable."

"You're doing more than your job." She said with a small smile. "Unless your job description includes making gullible women feel competent again."

Competent. His hand tightened around hers instinctively. "Are you sure you want to do this?" Peck wasn't some run of the mill fugitive. He was dangerous and didn't want to spend the next twenty years in the stockade. And desperate men were like cornered animals. Violent and unpredictable. Sending her with him into the middle of nowhere, especially if she didn't understand the risks was... distasteful.

"We can still figure something else out. Something that doesn't involve you."

It was easier to use her, logical, but not necessary if she wasn't comfortable. "We could get him when he comes by your place. You don't need to go with him if you don't want to." He stopped, uncomfortably aware that she could choose to take his words as an insult. As doubt in her ability, and that wasn't what he intended. It wasn't her ability he doubted.

But she was smiling at him, warm and easy. "Thank you for your concern, but I have to do this." She brought her hand to the side of his face and slowly leaned in and kissed him softly on the lips. Decker held himself still, uncertain how to react. He faltered for a moment and then she was pulling away. Her voice was soft as she looked at him. "Thank you."

He lowered his head a bit, oddly warm and a bit embarrassed. "Don't," his voice was as quiet, almost inaudible, but he didn't know what came after, what he was trying to say. What he wanted to say.

"Don't what, Rod?" she whispered, "Don't do this?"

She leaned back in and kissed him again. Firmer this time, more personal. And this time he returned it. Soft and unsure at first. His eyes slipped closed as her hands ran through his hair. It was all very – something – he couldn't quite grasp. He opened his eyes again as she pulled back, seeing the promise in hers. Suddenly he became very aware of the fact that they were still in the restaurant. He caught her hand in his. "Don't do this because of him."

She met his gaze with a heated one of her own, "I'm doing this for me." She kissed him again, this time just behind his ear. He groaned as she pulled on that sensitive plexus of nerves. "And for you," she whispered.

He nuzzled into her, her moist breath on his ear. Decker brought his hand up to her cheek. His thumb ran along her jawline, fingers tangling in her hair. "You're sure you want this?" His voice was huskier than normal. He cleared his throat and pushed down the growing desire to push her down on the table and find out just how good she felt.

She leaned in to his hand in her hair, her eyes flashing with desire, "I've never wanted anything more."

Decker nodded slightly. He didn't need to be told again. As long as she was sure.

XXXXX

Face forced out a deep breath through clenched teeth and pressed his back against the tree. He needed to get this under control. The moment Decker had tied that rope around Faces hands, Decker had won. Face had been too stubborn to admit it. Fighting it tooth and nail every step of the way. And that had been his undoing. He'd let it control him all the while denying that Decker had anything to do with it.

He'd focused so tightly on ignoring everything that that rope had represented what he'd failed to consider, on any level - how close to that edge he'd been. Decker had pushed – calculated or not – he'd hit the right buttons: bringing those past scars dangerously close to the surface. Even then he'd managed to shut it down. But it hadn't been enough. Decker had more ammunition and this time he'd been willing to use it.

Face let his eyes slide closed as he tipped his head up towards the night sky. When had Alex become ammunition? She wasn't anything. A convenient fuck under the stars while he disappeared from a chase that had gotten too close. She'd had an expiration date the moment he'd spotted her running down that beach. They _all _did. A fun romp while it lasted. That was it.

It shouldn't have bothered him that Decker was sleeping with her. Why did it?

Maybe it was just everything combined. Decker was pushing, trying to dig at unwanted childhood memories. Face had never had the storybook life; never wanted it. Getting the girl was boring. The chase was exciting. New each and every time. Figuring out those nuances.

He hadn't figured all of those out with Alex though. He'd still been playing. Pressed up against that tree, when she'd grabbed his wrists - in her element – confident – he'd wanted to see her like that. Who she was.

No, he hadn't been done with Alex in the least. Even if he fully planned on getting his fill of her while they were out here, she'd been done with him long before hand. And he hadn't seen it. He'd been so busy playing his own game he'd failed to realize that she was no longer eating out of his hand.

She hadn't played him. She would have to know him to have done that. And he'd made damn sure that wasn't the case. She wasn't skilled at the game and neither was Decker. Regardless, the end result had him in custody and fighting to maintain any semblance of control.

Decker may have control over him right now, but that was it. Pushing hadn't gotten him anywhere and compliance was not synonymous with defeat.

He opened his eyes, looking up at that vast night sky. Clearer and more pronounced than he'd seen in years. It had been a long time since despair had entered his world, and he didn't want it now. He pushed it down and away. Refused to be pulled into that emptiness again.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 9

Decker laid in bed, Alex's head nestled on his shoulder. A small content smile found its way across his lips. Without thinking about it his fingers began to lightly stroke her hair while she slept. She was gorgeous, and it was cute the way she nuzzled into him. It was soft and gentle and what? Unguarded? Vulnerable?

Whatever it was, he liked it.

A soft breeze fluttered through the open curtains, the cooler air had him pulling her in just a bit closer. The warmth of her skin against his had a him closing his eyes for a second to revel in the feel of her. A nice quiet timeout from everything. And completely different from last night.

Last night had been great. No, if he was honest, it was a lot more then great. Alex was feisty, and fiery, and knew exactly what she wanted. Which just happened to be to ride him until he was unable to think past her. Demanding and certain, she moved above him; hair swaying, breasts firm and perked with arousal. That mischievous glint in her eyes looking down at him. She was beyond beautiful.

His body reacted to the memories of the feel of her. Hot, slick, stroking over him, clamping down around him as he gave her everything she needed. A deep shuddering breath escaped him as he replayed those images.

Alex snuggled in closer to him and his arm wrapped tighter around her. Holding her securely against him. There was something vulnerable about her. Despite her...almost... determination to be anything but. What ever it was it had him wanting to protect her.

Decker could see it. It was in the way she moved. Her insistent need to be in control of things. She had to have the answer and she knew exactly what and how things were going to go. The few times he had tried to take control last night; override her pace, set the tone, she had become almost fervent. Playful wrestling for position as he had flipped her onto her back had led to complete disengagement until she had managed to find her way back on top of him. A tight grip on his wrists as she pushed him into the bed. Her eyes flashing back to life as she sank down on him again.

He wanted to protect her from that. Whatever she was running from, she didn't need to be afraid. Whatever had caused that. No. That was wrong. It wasn't a "what" it was a who. Suddenly it was plain as day to him.

In the morning light, that content smile that pulled at the corner of her lips as she slept – exhausted from that _need _to be in control. It hadn't been an animalistic or passionate need. No, there had been something else in her eyes. A glint of fear? Pain even?

And all because of what? Because she'd been used by Peck and then had that fact put on display by Decker himself. He'd known it at the dinner table.

_"Don't do this because of him."_

_"I'm doing this for me. And for you."_

Because it's the only way she knew how to gain control of that part of herself again. Decker's eyes slid shut and he rested his head against hers. Alex should never have felt that way. Naked, used, and thrown out. All the while having it put in the spotlight for everyone to see.

And Decker himself was responsible for part of that. Peck would have disappeared from her life sooner or later and she would have never known that she was just a passing party favor. Instead, he drug her into his office and dangled this role in front of her. This way to for her to get some retribution. Retribution that she didn't even realize she needed until he had shown her. Jesus Christ, what the hell was he doing? Taking a page out of Peck's book of tricks?

Here he was lying with her safely in his arms and he was the one that had put her in this position in the first place. What the hell was he supposed to do with that?

Nothing.

He had a job to do. Peck was a lying, cheating, cold hearted bastard who used anyone and everyone to get what he wanted. And the least Decker could do was lock that bastard up where he couldn't hurt anyone else.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes again, the determination setting in to the very fiber of his being as he pulled Alex in just a bit closer. He didn't deserve her, but damned if she deserved to feel like a nothing more than a marker on chessboard.

XXXXXX

It was 75 degrees out and _pouring_. A clap of thunder echoed in the distance. Face struggled to keep up with Decker's pace. It was uphill terrain now, probably the final stretch if he had to venture a guess. Streams of water flowed down the hillside turning the once dry hard dirt into wet clay that filled the traction on his boots and gave way without warning.

Face caught himself again as he lost his footing, the cuffs bit into his wrists every time he put his hands down. Decker had clamped them on tighter than before. He pushed himself back up only to have his toe catch on a rock. He grunted as he hit the ground again. This time full on. A moment later his wrists got pulled out in front of him. God damn it. He was going to break his ankle if this kept up. He pulled on the rope, used it to get some leverage as he fought to get his feet under him again.

"Colonel," one of the guards behind him called out, "we're going to wind up carrying him out of here if we keep this up."

He slipped down to his knees again and scrambled to get back up only wind up sprawled in the mud. He tightened his grip on the rope, waiting for it to snap tight again.

"Get up."

Face stared at him for a moment, surprised that he had finally stopped. He took a couple deep breaths and pushed himself back up. Decker dismounted the horse and crossed the few steps to him, a hand straight in his chest shoved him none-too-gently backwards until he was off the main trail. "Sit down."

Face glared at him, he was too tired to put up much resistance even if he had wanted to, besides, Decker would just pull him up and start back on the trail. He lowered himself to his knees and sat there. A second later a hand on his shoulder pushed him backwards – hard – until he was on his ass in the mud.

He locked eyes on Decker as he caught himself- a momentary urge to push himself back up flashed through him.

"Do it." Decker challenged.

Face stopped. Everyone's attention focused on him. This wasn't going to get him anywhere. He took a deep breath and dropped his eyes to the ground as he pushed himself up to a sitting position and left it at that. He was exhausted- his legs were burning, his reaction time was muted and he felt like he could sleep for a week. He was soaked through to the bone, covered in mud, and had a growing collection of bruises. Right now, all he wanted was to be left alone. The less attention he got the better.

Face barely saw the canteen headed his way in time to bat it away. He glared at Decker for a moment, the colonel was really pushing it, Decker knew it too, and knew Face had to just shut up and take it at some point. Finally he reached over and grabbed the canteen out of the mud. There was a good chance Decker wouldn't stop again and he wasn't sure how much further they had to go. He took his time drinking the water. The rain beat down on him as he sat there.

All he wanted to was rest. His body was running on fumes and he knew it. Decker had done a damn good job of making sure he had never had a chance to get fully on top of the situation. Tired to his core. His body hurt in ways that it hadn't since 'Nam. Even Hannibal's training sessions allotted for enough sleep to be able to function.

He swallowed the last of the water. They wouldn't be stopping again. They were out of supplies, and if what the sheriff had said was accurate, there'd be no need. He tossed the canteen back to Decker where it landed at his feet with a thud.

"You dropped something."

"Glad to see you've caught your breath, Lieutenant." Face's hands snapped forward with the leash again as Decker pulled him up to his feet and back over to the horse.

Face took a slow deep breath. There wasn't much more to get through. And if Decker kept up the pace he'd set thus far today... Hell. Face couldn't keep that pace up. He'd been falling more and more and it was getting harder to get back up. Sheer determination and stubborn pride wouldn't beat out a broken leg. Decker had to know that.

Face shook his hair out of his face, kicked the mud out of the soles of his boots. He really could have used a bit more time. Thunder rolled in the distance again and he couldn't help but look up at the angry sky. Dark clouds that were rolling so freely it was like the whole sky was moving.

Wait. That thunder sounded ...different – like? _Not _like thunder. Like _chopper_blades. And they were getting closer. He fought a smile off of his face as hope of the team rescuing him flooded back. He needed to stall. Make sure they saw him, buy some time. "You know, walking around in a lightning storm is just asking for trouble right?" He kept his tone light, he didn't need another confrontation, he just needed some time.

"I'll take my chances." Decker mounted the horse again, glaring at him.

Face held the gaze. "Come on, Colonel, this is Oregon." He appealed - hearing the desperation seeping into his voice. "The weather changes every hour." He smiled even as the rain pelted down, hard enough to wash the mud off of him. "You could find some shelter, build a fire, and wait this out. Give everyone a rest"

Decker kicked the horse into gear. "_Shut_it, Lieutenant." There was no mistaking the warning tone. "I'm not in the mood."

Face started walking along side the horse, fighting the urge to search the sky again. It probably didn't matter, Decker had ears of his own. Damn it, Decker wasn't going to wait around. Come on, _think._He stuck to edge of the trail, where there was more grass and less mud as the pace picked up again. "Yeah?" his tone dropped – baiting, "That why you got rid of your fuck buddy so quickly out here?" They needed to stop before they got back into the heavy tree cover.

Face's arms pulled out in front of him and lost his footing again, he rolled with it, stopped himself when his back hit the dirt and searched the sky in the quick moment he had before he pushed himself back up. "You know, for such a hard line military man, you sure seem to like men on their knees." He sneered. Come on, _stop!_Get off the Goddamn horse and punch me in the mouth. He could make a play for the lead...

Decker stopped the horse and turned towards him, the anger in his eyes unmistakable. "If you don't shut your mouth, boy, I am going to gag you."

Do it! By the time you get me gagged that chopper will be here - Face sneered openly, the adrenaline pumping through him again. "With what Decker?" he shot him a look- he needed push this over the line. "All natural equipment, or you packing a ball-gag in those saddle bags?"

Decker glared at him, but the anger was gone. "You think that helicopter is for you, don't you?" Decker kicked the horse back into gear.

Face felt himself falter at that, Decker wasn't supposed to catch on so quickly. "You know BA and Hannibal don't fly." A condescending smirk schooled back in place. "Or are you still banking on Captain Murdock being our crazy undercover pilot?" His tone was patronizing at best, one he was sure Decker had heard from his superiors in the past in regards to the 'Murdock' theory. Come on, damn you, back up that gag threat.

"I wouldn't put anything past you, Lieutenant." Face looked back up to Decker, the colonel's tone was more than threatening. "But if you're thinking of executing some beautiful escape, you should know that my orders to shoot still stand."

Face laughed outright at that. He probably shouldn't take Decker's faith in his ingenuity as a compliment. "Decker, if I had a way out of this I'd be gone already." He listened for a moment, the chopper was still getting closer. "What am I gonna do, huh? You have my lock picks, all the guns, and I'm tied to a fucking leash. A bullet is the least of my problems, let alone this 'beautiful escape' I'm supposed to be plotting while being drug around out here."

"Just as long as we're clear, Lieutenant."

The helicopter was loud now. Face looked up, searching the clouds. "Right," he dismissed. There- Face stopped- there it was. Blue. What did it say? Channel 8 KGW. The rope pulled taught on his wrists and he stumbled forward again. It wasn't the team. That hope left him as though he'd just been hit in the gut. He pushed the disappointment down.. It almost didn't matter anyway. They'd all scattered, gone to ground. Even if Hannibal caught the news, he wouldn't be able to act fast enough.

Face went back to concentrating on the trail, the weight of the situation settling in on him. It was another two hours of an unfriendly pace that had him sliding all over the place before the trail took another steep turn, and suddenly they were in a parking lot. He lost a step as they came into the clearing. This was _not _good. He hadn't planned on making it this far with Decker. That fact alone was daunting, and left him feeling empty. He looked around at the green sedans, the MP's that Decker had sent ahead were now standing by, awaiting their arrival. Suddenly Face's world got very small.

Decker grabbed him none-too-gently by the arm, half dragging him to the cars that were ready and waiting. Decker shoved his chest down on the hood of one of the sedans a knee planted firmly in his thigh in case he decided now was the opportune time to make a break for it. "Hands behind your head."

Face complied as a sinking feeling moved from his chest to his gut. He didn't bother looking around, or tossing out a sarcastic remark, things were well beyond that. Decker latched his hands together behind his back and pulled him off of the car. A second later he was inside the sedan, the door was closed and he was trapped.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 10

Face let himself rock back and forth with the gait of the horse. Decker had replaced the horse's bridal with a halter, the lead wrapped tightly around Decker's saddle horn. There were eight of them in all travelling through the mountain forest, Face attached to Decker right in the middle of the group, the local sheriff leading the way back to town. "You know, I have to give you credit this time around, Decker." He raised his cuffed hands at the group. "I was _really _not expecting this." He laughed.

No response. The banter had died over an hour ago, and things were getting more than a bit mundane. The sun was starting to set now. They would have to stop within the next couple hours. "I think this whole stunt lacked flare, though." He threw a sideways glance at Decker.

Nothing.

"Next time, you could lure me to some tropical paradise, strip me down behind a waterfall, where I'd never hear you coming." He eyed Alex. "There'd be nothing but a rock wall, glistening in the broken sunlight. Nowhere to run." He smirked. "Yeah," he sighed and raised his voice loud enough for the group behind them to hear what he was saying, "if you're going to contract out on the sex trade, you _really _need to capitalize on its true potential."

"You really think you're funny, don't you?" Alex turned towards him.

Face smiled openly at that, glad for the interaction – the monologue was getting boring. "I'm just trying to help. I wouldn't want your career to come to a blustering halt because you lacked foresight, Detective." Face balanced himself in the saddle a bit further sideways.

She raised her eyebrow at him. "Foresight?" His smile widened at the challenging tone. "YOU'RE the fugitive on the end of a leash." She harrumphed. "I think my career is doing just fine."

Face locked his gaze on her. "This?" He smiled confidently. "I'm not too worried." He glanced at Decker. "_This _is why Decker's career has stalled out so phenomenally."

Alex gave a short laugh and turned away from him again. So much for that. He straightened himself out in the saddle again, casting a glance at Decker, but the colonel didn't seem to be the least bit interested in what he was doing.

He continued the diatribe. "It's too bad, really. You guys could be putting your heads together to catch a bunch of other people that have done a lot worse than me." Any takers? No. "At least then you'd get some recognition beyond expense reports."

Alex turned back around. "Aww." The sarcasm was dripping. "Don't sell yourself short, hon. You're plenty worth the effort."

Decker glanced around the group, caught Face's eye and dismissed him. "We can set up camp now or wait until we get down into the ravine. Either way, we're going to need to stop soon."

Face ignored the plan making. He would have preferred a second sparring partner. "I mean, doesn't this get old?" he asked nobody in particular. "Granted, it might be new and exciting for the detective over there-"

Alex didn't bite, focusing her attention on Decker instead. "It'll definitely be dark before we get down into the ravine. That trail is rough up ahead."

"-but at some point, you have got to wonder what the point really is."

Decker nodded acknowledgment. "Then let's stop here."

"Chase one guy, or ACTUALLY make a difference and catch some real criminals for once."

Face's horse came to a stop and he dismounted with the rest of them.

Alex smiled at him. "Can we _gag _him while we set up camp?"

_And we are back_. He met her smile with a playful one of his own. "Gags now, huh, sweetie? See, we could have had some more fun." Decker led his horse away, not paying attention to the verbal exchange. Probably glad someone else was dealing with it at this point, he thought.

She stepped in closer to him. "Gags and handcuffs right up your alley, huh?" She pressed up against him. "You can still get down on your knees and beg me for it if you want." She lowered her voice to just about a whisper. "Though, my answer's going to be no."

Face glanced around as she took a step away from him. The rest of the MP's were setting up camp. Something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. He locked on it even in the dimming light - a pen cap, with a nice metal clip in a shirt pocket – and belonging to . . . Sergeant Dobbs. He smiled and pulled his concentration off of the guard. He locked his eyes on Alex again, his smile turning into somewhat of a leer. "I don't remember being the one begging when I was on my knees."

She leaned in close again, close enough to speak so that the others wouldn't hear. "I was never on my knees for you, babe. We never got that far. As I recall, YOU were the one servicing ME."

That's what he'd just said. Oh well, it didn't matter, she was trying to save face and that would work to his advantage. Face kept the grin plastered on his face. He took a step towards her, just enough to close the gap between them. "Yeah, and you screamed all night long."

"Detective, step back." The authority in Decker's tone didn't leave room for argument and Alex followed the direction quickly, still smirking at Face.

"Oh, don't worry. If he tries anything, I'll just shoot him." The corners of her mouth turned up wickedly. "My gun's bigger than his."

Dobbs had stopped a few feet away, watching the exchange. Perfect. Face 'ignored' him, his tone lower than before. "Your gun's out of practice."

"Maybe. But don't worry. Yours won't get much use in the stockade." Her eyes glinted for a moment. "Or maybe it will."

_You do like to play rough_. That was okay, he could ante up. "Tell me something," he said, ignoring the stockade comment, "you scream like that for everyone, or just the highest bidder?"

She shrugged at him, her smile still in place. "Sometimes I scream louder. 'Cause sometimes it's actually _real_."

Ouch – not to mention _liar_. She was playing defense, though. It shouldn't take much more to get a reaction out of her that would draw Dobbs over. He leered at her. "So you _are _easily purchased," he said, his voice loud enough for the others to hear, antagonizing. "If I had known that, I wouldn't have bothered with dinner. I'd have just hauled you back, stripped you down, and rode you all night long." _Come on, lose that control you hang on to so dearly._"If the end result is the same either way-"

"That's enough out of you, Peck." Decker gestured to a large rock. "Take a seat over there, before I take the lady's advice and_ gag_you."

What was it going to take to close the deal, here? "In fact, if I'd had access to your price list, we could have had all kinds of fun." Nothing. "Or I could have, which is all that matters if I'm flipping the bill, right?" Where was that stubborn pride? Double or nothing. "Tell me," he said, eyeing Decker, "how much would begging like a cunt have set me back?"

The muscles in Decker's jaw twitched as that gravel voice boomed, "Sergeant!"

Score.

Face smiled smugly at Alex as Dobbs walked over to him. The guard grabbed him by the arm – hard - and pulled him away from her. He managed to trip with the force of the tub and stumbled into Dobbs. His hands finding the pen as he pawed for balance, and with practiced ease pulled the cap off as he fell to the ground. He smiled, tucking the cap into the waistband of his boxers. He pushed himself back up, before the guard felt the need to help. "Okay, okay." He raised his hands, not wanting a fight. "The rock. I got it."

The guard watched him closely as he backed towards the rock and sat down. Face let him search the area without any comments. _Too late, Dobbs._He fought off a smile and watched as the campfire was built and the horses were tied to trees around them.

XXXXX

Face pulled himself out of his thoughts as the car slowed and they pulled up to a small building: "Watsop County Police Station". Great. They'd followed the sheriff there, a quick rest for the group that had been with Decker before they took off for the base. He'd been hoping to find out what base, but neither Decker, nor Crane had elaborated and he hadn't felt like asking. There was a bit too much defeat in confirming what he already knew as it was.

He leaned forward in the seat as a garage door opened for the cars. This was a small town. Probably a one horse layout. Large open room with a couple cells along one wall. He was more than a bit familiar with busting out of those places. Even with the added challenge of the military presence, it was one lock and out the door. He rolled his shoulders as they pulled into the bay. There was a collection of restraints hanging from hooks on the wall, a shelf that held yellow crime scene tape that didn't look like it had done much more than be removed from the box.

The sheriff was out of his car and walking over to them before Decker had even managed to turn the car off. What was it he'd said about Decker _not _getting him to a jail cell?

It didn't look like Decker was any happier to be here than Face. Warily eying the surroundings as the colonel stepped out of the car, even Decker couldn't deny the need for rest. They'd been out wandering the wilderness for too long. He threw a skeptical look at Face and then the sheriff. "I want his cell guarded at all times by at _least _two men. If you don't have them available, I'll do it myself."

"The cells are on the other side of the main office." The sheriff explained, glancing over at Face, who couldn't help but smile at the distrust. "I don't think he'll be able to get out, but you can take a look for yourself and I'll do whatever I can to help you out."

"Get him out of there," Decker ordered. A second later, Crane opened the door and pulled him to his feet. A controlling hand never left Face's arm as Crane shoved him in the direction of the door.

"Nice jail you got here, Sheriff." Face smiled as the sheriff ignored him and lead the way into the building. "Tell me something, you ever use those rolls or are they just decoration?"

"Shut up, Lieutenant." Decker's glare lacked patience. It was on his face and in his tone. A step behind Crane as they walked into the building. Decker was immediately scanning as much as Face was for anything that could be used to Face's advantage.

It was a simple office set up – work desk, main entrance for the public, large windows. A door directly across from the one they had just come in from. It was a heavy metal door that locked from this side of things and had a caged window at head level. Face could see the bars of the cells on the other side of it.

Another officer immediately stood up. "Sheriff, glad to see you made it back."

"Thanks. We need to park him for a few hours."

"Right. We busted a party up at the McGill's place and Rubin is back. We had to put males in one cell, females in the other, and Rubin in the middle." The deputy glanced around, almost nervous at having such an audience. "The cells are maxed out to capacity as it is."

Face's posture immediately changed. His back straighter and his jaw set. Face knew they'd stopped here only because everyone of Decker's men had been run into the ground over the past few days. They needed to rest if they wanted to stand a chance of getting him to a base. Especially if the team showed up. But locking him up with some unknown, town drunk annoyance threatened the control Decker had over the situation. And Face didn't feel like playing king of the mountain with some town thug.

"I don't like it." Decker looked at Crane. "Where's the next closest place we can stop?"

Crane thought for a moment, his grip tightening on Face's arm as the tension built up in Face's muscles. "Two hours in the wrong direction. You're looking at three and half towards the base."

Face closed his eyes at that. He didn't want to deal with some local idiot who thought it would be fun to mess with him. He'd be more than happy to just sleep on a mattress for the first time in a week. Even if it was some flat jail bed, it would be better than rocks and sticks, and handcuffs. And it would be far better than sleeping in that sedan.

"Colonel," Crane continued, "I don't know about you, but some us are barely able to keep our eyes open. Even those of us who came back early, we were sitting out there waiting for you to come back with him for quite a while.

It made sense. Decker had been out of contact in the woods. After they'd taken Alex back and called the base to secure a cell for an incoming prisoner, they would've been out there waiting for them to come out of the woods. Every last one of them were stung out.

"And that three hours is through some pretty secluded passes, sir. If the A-Team is going to try anything, it's going to be there."

"Take a look at the cells, Colonel," the sheriff invited. "You can always change your mind. But he's right. You aren't going to be any good if you fall asleep at the wheel." He took a couple steps over to the heavy door and unlocked it for them.

Decker hesitated, then finally stepped forward with a scowl firmly in place. He walked slowly through the door and glanced at the three cells – two of them packed and the other holding a man who probably outweighed Face by at least fifty – probably closer to a hundred - pounds. There was no doubt that the man could hold his own if Face decided to run his mouth.

Decker gave a disgusted, still slightly concerned look at the sheriff. "Fine. Two hours and I want one of your deputies inside this room to keep an eye on him. Either that or leave the door open. I don't want this man left unattended at _any _time."

The sheriff nodded his understanding, "We'll leave the door open." He shot a worried glance that Face followed over to Rubin. The man was straight out of a bad biker movie. Tattoo's, grizzled beard, stringy unwashed hair under a confederate flag bandanna and more attitude than Face cared to deal with.

Decker stepped behind Face as the sheriff unlocked the cell, and unlatched the cuffs. Decker's voice was low, so only Face could hear. "Any problems out of you, Lieutenant, and I will cuff you to the bars of the cell. Understand?"

"I'm automatically the guilty party here?" His voice just as low as Decker's. He didn't take his eyes off of Rubin. The last thing he wanted to do was get into anything with that guy.

"That's why I'm having you watched, Lieutenant." A strong hand on his shoulder pushed him forward into the cell. Face stayed put, throwing one last glance at Decker as the door was shut before turning his attention to Rubin. Great. Face swallowed and readied himself for what promised to be a very warm exchange of greetings.

Rubin ran an appraising eye up and down him as he pushed himself off the wall and took a small step towards Face. "Well, lookie here. Fresh meat."

Face smiled and ran a hand down the front of his shirt as his eyes narrowed. "Can we skip the cliche's and jump straight to both of us staying on our own side of the cell?" Somehow he got the impression that was not going to happen.

"Well, now, that's some fancy talk for someone who looks like a bum who's been dipped in shit." Rubin's eyes narrowed as a thought occurred to him. It was probably a rare occurrence for him to think anything beyond hit, drink, smoke, and hit some more. "You got your very own toy soldier. Why's a little shit like you get that?"

Face let out a bored sigh. "Big brother program." Rubin was between him and the bunk. There was no getting around engaging with him.

"Do you think your big brother will show up at your funeral, funny boy?"

Face cocked a sideways glance at Rubin. Was this guy really that stupid? Of course he was. The answer was always yes. "The Sheriff gonna show up at yours?" There was a serious undertone in his voice despite the smile.

He paused for a moment, perhaps there was a different tactic that would work. No matter what, it couldn't hurt, and there was no need to go running off into a fight before he had to. "Look, Rubin, right?" He didn't wait for the man to figure out how to confirm that. "I get that you're the big fish in this berg and I'm only passing through. I'll be out of here in a couple hours, okay, man? I'm not looking for a pissing match." He raised his brow, hoping that Rubin would just let it go.

"You talking like you know everything, just like my kike lawyer. Right before I broke his jaw." Rubin took a step towards the bunks, his gaze never leaving Face. He wrinkled his nose as he sniffed the air. "You smell like pig shit."

Kike? Great. This guy just got better and better. Face stayed where he was, his eyes following Rubin, he stayed square with the bigger man, his arms hanging loosely at his sides. He pushed down a momentary urge to see where Decker was. Hell. He didn't want a goddamn fight right now. Decker and his handcuffs be damned, he just wanted to sleep. If he had any chance of getting out of this at all, he needed to be as sharp as he could. "Alright, man, how about we agree that I'm scared of you, and we call it good?"

Rubin gave Face a hard look. He wasn't sure how or why but he got the feeling that he was being made fun of somehow. "We can call it a good start" he growled, waiting to see what his cell mate would do next.

"Call it the end, too."

'Tough talk from a little fagot like you." Rubin unfolded his hands, smiling, he wasn't bored anymore and his with drawl was focused on anger.

Face smiled at that, Double digit IQs never ceased to amaze him. "Right," he drawled, "so let me get this straight. I'm a bum, a funny boy, a kike, a fagot, and I smell like pig shit." He paused a moment. "What's next? Pussy, pansyass, cocksucker?" His eyes narrowed and his voice dropped to a dangerous low. "Or how about an inbred pig **fuck**er?" He felt his muscles tense with anticipation, his pulse quicken in his chest, ready to move.

Rubin had to blink a couple times before he could figure out a response. "So you got arrested for being a pig **fuck**er? Well, that explains the smell."

Face let out an impatient sigh as he watched Rubin, every muscle in his body on edge as Rubin took a heavy step towards him. Face felt his jaw clench as the larger man encroached on his personal space. His fingers tingled in anticipation of what the lack of a response to the intimidation tactics would bring.

Face's stance widened as a grim line crossed Rubin's features when he didn't back down. The guy was big, but slow, and Face saw the punch coming before it was even thrown. A quick step to the side as he caught Rubin's anvil of a fist and spun behind him – he kicked Rubin's knee out from under him. "Back off," he growled and released Rubin's arm taking a quick step back. "Got it?"

Face locked his eyes on Rubin – he didn't need to look to know the scurry of activity that was going on in the main office – as the bigger man slowly pushed himself to his feet.

Rubin stood tall for a moment, his eyes dark with rage as he lunged forward. "**Fuck**ing, cocksucker!"

Rubin's shoulder caught Face in the gut, driving him back towards the bars of the cell. His hands grabbed at anything he could get a hold of as his feet fought to stay in contact with the ground. Panic hit him as the air was forced out of his lungs by the impact of the bars, Rubin's shoulder painful in his gut. Rubin pulled off of him. Finally he got his feet under him, his stance wide as he used the bars to brace himself.

A lightning bolt of pain flashed from his groin throughout his whole body, overwhelming – blinding every urge he had - and he was on his knees gasping. His mind white with pain as he instinctively tried to curl in on himself. He couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Couldn't move as the pain pulsated through him like dull razor blades in his gut.

Move! Some small part of his brain demanded it. He needed to move. Had to. MOVE! Away from whatever – no. Whoever - Rubin had caused this. Hands. They were on him – his stomach turned – a new wave of pain washing over him. Fingers grabbing his hair. Do _something _damn it! He forced his eyes open as his back hit the ground, a heavy weight pinning him there.

His fingers grabbed whatever they could latch onto as the side of his face was ground into the concrete floor. Move! **fuck**that – get away! He scrambled – feet, knees, elbows, hands – anything he came into contact with he pushed, kicked, punched – anything. And suddenly the weight was off of him. Face caught a glance at Rubin being restrained on the other side of the cell - that was all he needed - the threat was gone. He curled back onto himself, his eyes slid closed as a new wave of pain took over. He could hear breath raggedly escaping him. He couldn't stay still, couldn't move. Couldn't form a coherent thought.

Decker's hands were on him again. Rough and controlling but they weren't threatening as they pulled him up to his feet and dragged him out of the cell. Face couldn't have fought the movement if he'd wanted to. Another wave of nausea hit him and his knees buckled on him. Decker was as much carrying him as guiding him into the front room. Face collapsed to his knees the moment Decker let him. Deep gasping breaths to fight off the nausea as his body protested the assault.

"Bring a chair over here." Decker ordered as the metal bars of the cell door clacked shut and the noise inside was muffled as the door to the room was closed as well.

Face let out a groan a moment later as he was pulled up by several hands into the chair. His arms sinking into his sides to brace against that dull agony as he slouched down in the chair. It was all he could do to not writhe.

"Well, that didn't take very long."

Face threw Decker a glare. Did he really think Face had gone into that with the intention of starting a fight? He didn't have the energy or the focus to pursue that right now. Deep breath in and out. The nausea was beginning to diminish. At least he wasn't vomiting. Here they were in the main office – one door between him and the free world instead of three – and he was crippled by indescribably overwhelming pain.

Decker turned away from him towards the rest of the MPs. "Let's go. We're not staying here." Nobody made any attempt to move Face as they regrouped. Decker held some low conversation with the sheriff that may as have been Greek for all Face was able to catch of it.

Face took a deep breath and pushed himself upright in the chair. That wasn't much better. He leaned forward again, resting his elbows on his knees. He hadn't experienced a crotch shot like that since Julie Hasslebrow in the tenth grade.

Several minutes later Decker returned to Face, studying him carefully for a long moment. "Care to tell me what happened in there?" It wasn't an order. In fact, it seemed like a genuine question despite the fact that there was no indication that Decker really wanted to know.

They'd been through this before. Multiple times at this point. "Not your problem, right?" At least his voice didn't sound as weak as he felt.

"Let me know when you're ready to get back to the car." Decker's tone was entirely unreadable. Was that doubt on hard-lining things to this extent? Somehow, Face doubted it.

"Right." Face eyed Decker questioningly for a moment. In the past week there had been no give at all. No matter what Face had done to persuade some. Face shifted a bit as the discomfort boiled up again. It wasn't nearly as bad this time around. The waves of nausea and pain were coming less frequently and less intensely. It wouldn't be long before they were on the road again. The next stop was the stockade. And there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 11**

It wasn't the owl's hooting or the switching of the horse's tails, or even the rustling of leaves in the upper trees with the breeze that Face was focused on. Laying there silently, eyes closed, his chest rising with slow, relaxed breaths as he feigned sleep, he pushed the crickets, frogs, and every hint of nature there was to the background until all that was left was the sounds of military movement around him.

Face had made sure to play nicely with Decker for the rest of the night. Eating his MRE with little commentary over the dry cardboard texture and resisting the urge to argue with Decker about where the colonel had insisted he set down for the night. Hell, Face hadn't even pointed out that with as many men as Decker had traipsing around these woods for him, a two man watch system for four hours would have been far superior to the one guard every two hours he'd opted to go with.

There was logic in that system - two hours allowed for very little time for the guards to fall asleep or lose focus on the fact that Face probably wasn't sleeping as soundly as he appeared. However, Face was a betting man, and human nature was predictable and lent itself to laziness. One man keeping watch, with no one to engage his mind or keep his focus were odds that Face liked.

He kept a knowing smile off of his 'sleeping' face and turned over on the hard ground again, putting his back towards the fire and away from as many eyes as possible as his fingers finally finished shaping the metal edge of his hijacked pen-cap. It had taken him longer than he liked, but with eight people there to catch him, it was slow progress at best. Working by feel, stealing the occasional glance to make sure he wasn't completely screwing up his one chance at escape. He'd finally gotten the metal sheer shaped enough that it would be effective.

He'd done this before. Spent hours practicing, making sure that he could make a lock pick out of anything he managed to get his hands on. It was a simple survival skill. One that had kept him out of jail and the hands of unsavory types countless times. Peering around the campsite with barely slit eyes, Face shifted again, a restless sleeper with the cuffs on. He'd been dong it all night and Dawson barely threw him a glance. Everyone else was sleeping soundly. Face laid there for a while longer, silent and still before shifting again so that he could watch Dawson without any worry that the MP would suspect he was awake.

It was simply a waiting game now. He was in no position to sneak up on the guard - especially here in camp where it wouldn't take much to wake the rest of the squad up. But something had to present itself. Young and brash, inexperienced, it was just a matter of time before someone slipped up, and Face would be there waiting to capitalize.

But it needed to happen quick. His time was limited and that noose around his neck was getting tighter with every hoof-stomp back towards the trail head. And whatever Decker had waiting for him back in civilization - well, it would be a whole lot easier to get lost in the woods for a couple of days.

Face's ears perked as the sound of twigs cracking and being pressed into the earth cut into his thoughts. Dawson took a couple steps forward, stretching and looked in his direction. What was he doing? Face shifted again, rolling onto his side, his back towards the guard, he let his hands fall away from his body - cuffs in clear view as Dawson came towards him.

Heavy, sleep driven breaths escaped him, as Dawson's movement's came closer, stopping momentarily at his feet. Finally, after a long moment the footsteps started up again, making their way away from him. Face cautiously opened his eyes, this time fully, watching as the guard disappeared into the woods. Perfect!

His hands worked quickly, fingers well practiced and more than skilled unlocking the left cuff in what he would have liked to think was record time. He didn't bother taking the time to unlock the right cuff, instead, locking the free shackle around his right wrist. He could get them both off later, once he was free and clear of this giant mess. Face let the silence linger in the air for a moment, taking stock in that calm before he pushed himself up, moving with trained stealth. He almost glided down the same path as Dawson had taken.

Stupid kid. He could the hear guard up ahead, a solid stream of noise. For all of the guard's stupidity, Face had to smirk. Having your prisoner escape while you took a bathroom break on your own instead of getting another guard to take your place... where did Decker find these jokers?

It was quick, all things considered. He was five feet away from Dawson when the noisy stream came to a stop. Three feet away - a zipper pulled up and the light clanking of a belt being clasp together rang through the night air. Face came in so close that he could feel the heat radiating off of Dawson's back.

He looped his arm around the guy's throat, his elbow in line with with Dawson's chin, Face grabbed his other bicep and flexed his muscles tight. His back arched against the struggling man, squirming, raspy breathes escaping him as he put up a shocked and uncoordinated fight. A few seconds later and the guard was limp in his arms.

Face stayed still for a moment, listening for anything other than the silence. But there was no sounds breaking through the night air to indicate he'd woken anyone up. He loosened the choke as he lowered Dawson down to the ground. Blood was already flowing back to the man's brain. The unconsciousness would only last a few minutes at the most. Seconds if he was really unlucky, and that wasn't something he was willing to risk right now.

Face clenched his fist and slammed Dawson upside his temple.

The camp was still silence except for his own heart beat pounding in his ears. Face moved quick, patting Dawson down, he reached for the gun, then thought better of it. If Decker was close enough for gunfire, he was done for anyway. And he wouldn't be taking the chance of hunting any animals out here for the next few days anyway. No point in helping Decker catch him again. That was it, Dawson had nothing useful on him.

Retracing his steps back to the camp, Face concealed himself behind the trees as he made his way over to the horses. They had taken all the saddles off of them last night. Luckily the bridles had stayed on or he'd be in a world of hurt right now. Hastily untying all of the horses' reigns from from tree branches, he left them standing there. Soon enough there would be enough commotion around here to scare at least a few of the horses off.

Once he got to the last horse, he held onto the reigns, passing them over the beast's head as he patted the large animal's muscular neck. Great, how the hell was he supposed to get on this thing without a saddle? The horse was going to make noise no matter what he did, but it was his only chance of putting any distance between himself, Decker, and that stockade.

He threw a glance back at the sleeping group, still no movement. A deep steadying breath as he grabbed the reigns and a lock of the horse's mane. His other hand trying to find a good hold along the horse's spine. There was none, the thing apparently did not come with a built in handle. They made it look so damn easy in the movies. But now, all he had to work with was sinewy muscle and a horse that wasn't offering any tips when it came to mounting it.

He furrowed his brow, bending his knees and hoping like hell this worked as he jumped up. Arms pulling his body further up the horse's side until he could swing his leg over. _Whoa!_ The stupid animal started walking before he'd even managed to find a lick of balance. _Stop, damn it. _He shifted himself around the horses back, his body tense with the effort to stay on and not simply fall right off the other side. Knees clenching into the horse's sides, hands pulling at the coarse hair. Hell, he didn't have time to figure this out, he needed to get out of here. He dug his feet into the sides of the animal as he fought to stay on and the horse kicked into gear.

He could hear the other horses stirring behind him as he careened through dark forest. He stayed low to the horse, hanging on for dear life as he was forced to trust the animal to not run them into a tree. Even if his escape was discovered right away, it would take Decker a while to get the horses saddled up – caught again if he was lucky. He wasn't crossing his fingers though, there weren't any other horses following him and he knew enough from Murdock's Range Rider fixation that horses were definite herd animals.

Slowly, Face found the horse's stride, forcing himself to relax on top of the animal as they raced through the forest. He didn't care what direction they were headed, as long as it was away from Decker. At a full gallop, he'd be able to leave them behind, eventually ditch the horse, and in a few days, he'd find his way out of this Godforsaken land to civilization where he could get a hold of Hannibal and put this whole damn ordeal behind himself.

XXXXX

They were on the road again and Face was staring into nothing. He leaned his head back against the headrest and took a couple deep calming breaths. This wasn't looking good. He'd seen no sign of Hannibal and the chances that his Colonel even knew that he was in trouble were slim to none. Nothing that he could bank on, that was for sure. He tried to keep the worry off of his face, but it was getting more and more difficult as those thoughts of slamming barred doors, shackles, prison uniforms, and unfriendly guards weighed heavier on his thoughts.

"That gas station should be coming up in a couple miles." Decker's voice cut through. Gas station. His brow creased at that. It meant that they were stopping this never ending ride into doom and gloom. He pulled his head off of the back of the seat and sat up, looking out the window as he rolled his shoulders. He could feel Decker's eyes on him as he moved and turned to catch his gaze.

"Going somewhere?" Decker warned.

"Five star resort, right?" he deadpanned.

"Only the best, Lieutenant."

Face let it go. The last thing he wanted was another reminder that he was on the losing end of this. Instead he found himself looking out the window again – how many things had he not savored? Speeding down the road in his vet with the top down and a beautiful woman sitting next to him. That beautiful woman naked in his arms later that night. The care free exchanges between the team. Sitting on a beach front and watching the sunset as the wind blew through his hair, waves crashing in the distance. Or watching the airplanes just outside the fencing with Murdock. So damn many lasts that he hadn't remembered to hang on to.

The car slowed as Crane pulled them off the road into the gas station. Decker getting out of the car the moment it came to a stop. Face could hear him giving orders to his crew - gas up the vehicles, get food, keep an eye out for the team. He stopped listening - it was a tiny, remote gas station surrounded by a hillside covered in trees.

Face pulled his head up as Decker opened his door, pistol in hand. He kept it trained on Face as he took a step back from the door. "Slowly, Lieutenant."

Face raised a brow, he hadn't been expecting the gun. Giving Decker a slight nod of understanding he struggled to get out of the car. Eventually Decker would have to put the gun away to rearrange the cuffs, but for now, Face stood there, waiting for direction. It didn't take long, Decker pointed to the left of the building.

Face took it at a casual pace – the attendant was filling the gas tanks, Crane was mapping the rest of the route, two of the guards were standing watch in areas that wouldn't give them an advantage if they were attacked anyway, while the other two had gone inside for food items. He stopped a couple feet short of the bathroom door.

Decker marched past him, opened the door and motioned him inside. Face sighed, tired of having his every move watched, he stepped inside. It was a one room bathroom- toilet and sink, no stalls, no windows. Face watched with feigned disinterest as Decker searched the room.

Finally satisfied that there was nothing Face could use to his advantage, Decker returned to Face and spun him around, he unlatched Face's left wrist, and ratcheted the empty cuff closed dangling from his right. "You have two minutes."

Face turned around as Decker closed the door on him. His mind raced as he used the facilities. First time his hands had been free from the start of this whole thing. He stepped up to the sink, ran the water until it was warm. He caught himself in the mirror. God, he looked like hell. His hair was stringy and limp, eyes gaunt with exhaustion, his lip still scabbed over from the night before and a nice fist sized bruise along his left cheekbone. Even the beard didn't do much to cover the marks up. He scrubbed his hands, dirt refused to come up from his nails, his wrists encircled with dark angry bruises from the cuffs.

He gripped the side of the sink and stared at himself. Templeton Peck was not about to spend the next twenty years in a stockade asking 'what if' he had only made a break for the woods. He smirked at that. After this last week he'd spent in the woods and hating every last moment of it, now, first chance he got, he was concocting a way to run right back into them. He finished drying his hands. It was _just _Decker – it shouldn't take much to gain the upper hand – just long enough to make it to the trees. Then it would be easy enough for him to disappear.

Face took one last look in the mirror before he turned and opened the door. Decker was standing just to the left of the doorway. He kept his demeanor cowed, then with a burst of energy closed the gap between them, he dug his shoulder into Decker, driving him back against the wall, his forearm pressing into the colonel's throat, he grabbed the gun from the holster, "Don't move, Colonel," he growled.

Decker didn't move – his eyes narrowed into a hard unrelenting glare, "Stupid move, Lieutenant." There was more of warning in his voice than Face would have expected considering the gun in his hand. "What do you think you're going to do? Shoot me?"

Face leaned into his throat. "You think I won't?" He cocked the gun back, "Remember that?" he bluffed, "get rid of the sedative. Left hand." The order was low and menacing and desperate.

Decker moved – too quick- and not for the sedative. Decker was off the wall, pushing Face off balance and before he even knew what happened, he was against the wall. His right arm twisted up behind his back as he was pressed into the hard cinderblock. "Just how stupid do you think I am, Lieutenant?" Face struggled against the hold. "And just how far do you think you would get?" He pulled Face's left arm down and latched the cuffs around his wrist again. "My men have orders- shoot to kill. Is that what you want?" - Face was done. "You'd rather die than take the consequences for your actions? That sure is a fucked up way of life, Peck."

God damn it! _No_! "Fuck you!" Face closed his eyes- that was it, his last chance was gone. He screamed in his head. This is _not_ how things were supposed to go. They didn't get caught – more importantly _he_ didn't get caught. A cry of frustration escaped him as his world crumbled.

Decker pulled him away from the wall, long enough to flip him around and push his back against the cinderblock building. The colonel stood there, pulled out a clip from his pocket and reloaded the gun that Face had swiped from his belt. He'd been played. How fucking stupid was he? Why hadn't he noticed how light the gun must've been? Face went from the gun to the woods, to anything but Decker and that gun standing in front of him, so triumphant. His breathing coming to fast as his chest tightened. How...

"Did you really think it would be so easy, Lieutenant?" he asked pointedly. "I was hoping you'd learned by now. But every time I try to give you an inch, you try to take a mile. Makes it _very _hard to sympathize with you."

He locked his gaze on Decker – a man who was going to take everything away from him, through gritted teeth asked, "What do you want, huh?" He felt more exposed at that moment than he had in a long time. He was done, they both knew it and no amount of bravado was going to do anything. "A thank you?" He stared him down, but it wasn't aggression this time. "You're going to get enough accolades for locking me up without me groveling over a bathroom break."

Decker shook his head, his voice calm and controlled beyond what Face would have expected. "I don't want a thank you. But I don't want to have to shoot you, either. And it's a long way back to the base."

Face shook his head as he pulled his eyes away from Decker. The colonel didn't need to see the emotion that was spilling over, and looked to the woods. If only – something. Anything else had happened. "What would you have done if I'd simply cold cocked you, or set that fucking sedative off in your throat?"

"But you didn't. You went for the easiest, and most obvious solution. Now," he pulled Face away from the wall and gave him a push back the way they'd come, "get back in the car."

Face didn't resist, walking back to the car as the heavy weight of prison set in him. He stood back while Decker opened the door and took one last look around the relative freedom before a heavy hand weighed on his shoulder. With a deep, sonorous breath, he ducked his head and got back into the car as Decker shut the door on him.


	14. Chapter 14

****A/N: This isn't the most polished of work, but I wanted to try and get this chapter and the next one out in the next week. Pregnancy and the promise of a newborn consuming all my time is going to make posting difficult and at least this way readers will get to see the conclusion of the book. Polished or not, you've all been super patient with me.

Quent

**Chapter 12**

Three olive green sedans were making their way down the lonely, secluded country road. Face knew that. He also also knew that one car had been leading the train of squad cars by a mile, scouting out any trouble that they could stop ahead of them. Presumably they'd have enough time in whatever attack they underwent to get word to Decker. It was a cute idea, but it didn't matter. Hannibal, had no clue Decker had gotten his military hooks into Face. And even if he did, the time for escape would have been days ago.

Either way, Decker wasn't taking any chances. Dusk was starting to settle and the trees were drowning out more light than normal. The only thing that was going in anyone's favor was the fact that the rain had finally stopped. And, quite frankly, that wasn't doing Face any good at this point.

"Squad, one." Decker repeated into the mic as he glanced over at Crane. Face couldn't tell whether he was getting annoyed or concerned by the lack of communication.

"Must be outta range still."

"Be glad when this whole thing is over."

Face let their voices filter to the back of his mind. Shifting towards the middle of the seat, trying to find a way to get comfortable with his arms cuffed behind him. He'd been played by Alex, escaped once, been dragged through the wilderness on a leash for more time than he cared to recount, failed on every level to gain the upper hand, and tried to kill Decker. Even the one time he'd had the cuffs off he'd wound up right back in them. Humble had never been his strong suite, admitting defeat - to such an extraordinary degree - he couldn't even wrap his mind around that notion. And yet, it seemed as though he was going to earn that merit badge on the front steps of a military brig.

"Eventually this road comes to a tee, you'll want to veer left." Face could hear the worn paper rustling as Decker folded the map up. "I want to hit the interstate as soon as possible. Get out of these woods."

He closed his eyes again. There was no point in watching every last detail that led up to his final incarceration. Closing off the outside world, he tried to get his bearings and sort through everything that had led up to this moment and everything that was going to happen as soon as he set foot on that military base. There would be no escape the moment they rolled onto government property. Razor wire, barricades, armed guards at every corner. Mugshots, fingerprints, strip search - somehow he doubted they'd be convinced that if he had managed to hang onto anything useful he would have used it already. Then a medical evaluation, shower, and a cell. Actually, all things considered, they may make the shower more of a priority than a few of the other intake procedures.

No matter what they did though, one thing wouldn't change. He'd be in custody, without the team, and under heavy guard every step of the way in less than four hours.

"Goddamn it!"

There was something in Decker's gravelly voice that had Face pulling his head off the back of the seat as he felt the vehicle speed up. What the hell was he grumbling about now, everything was going his way and there wasn't a damn thing Face could do about it.

"Don't even think about it, Peck."

Face frowned at the out of place order, pushing himself off the seat and looking around, something had Decker all sorts of bent out of shape. And then he saw it. A thing of black, red, and grey beauty, barrelling down on them like a heat seeking torpedo. Face almost felt giddy, a wave of relief that hit him like a tidal wave as he moved himself to the passenger side of the car. His back to the door so he could watch the magic. Just as Crane pushed the crown vic's engine to it's capacity, it let out a satisfying splutter as the engine cut out in a way that screamed Hannibal Smith. Beautiful - absolutely _beautiful_.

"There goes that jail cell you were getting me to." Face gloated through an uncontainable smile as the van closed the gap in no time flat. This was hands down the best rescue Hannibal had ever managed to pull off! Come on, baby! He was so close to getting out of this he could suddenly feel the freedom again.

A solid _crack! _cut through the car as Decker's fist hit the dashboard. He was not sharing Face's enthusiasm for the turn of events. "Check the radios again, damn it!" He ordered. "Find out if we're in range!"

Crane brought the squad car to a lurching halt, sending Face's shoulder slamming into the front seat. His captors making a last ditch effort to for their guns and try to ward off the attack. It wasn't going to happen. Hannibal had too much practice with this and it was like watching the kindergarten soccer team go up against season pros. The MP's didn't even have time to throw the door open before the van was angled every so perfectly along the squad car, preventing Crane from being able to get out of the car, and effectively making this the A-Team's ball field.

Hannibal hung out the passenger side window, AK-47 pointed right across Crane, directly at Decker. A broad shit eating grin plastered across his face as though he was delivering a Sunday morning greeting. "Hi, Decker." Cigar hanging between his teeth casually. "If you'd be so kind as to keep your hands on the dash, we're just here for your passenger."

Face didn't waste any time, moving towards the driver's side of the car as BA piled out of the van. Menacing scowl in place, he yanked the door to the car open. Large muscular hands grabbing Face and bodily pulling him out of the squad car and into the free world.

"I got you, man."

Face grinned from ear to ear. The pure excitement of the situation making the world slow down just a fraction. Freedom! Finally, and after he'd all but given up on it! Had there ever been a better feeling in the world? Suddenly the cuffs felt like they weighed a ton on his wrists, reminding him that he wasn't free yet. He needed to be able to move his hands, and the longer he couldn't, the more antsy he could feel himself getting. He _was _free damn it!

"You okay, kid?" Hannibal's voice cut in.

Face cut his eyes over to Hannibal, a raised his brow at the question - he'd never been better. Glancing back at the hard scowl and clenched jaw of BA, he frowned, taking him a moment to put it together. He looked like hell worked over, and that would have BA's temper flaring in no time flat.

"Couldn't be better, Colonel." There was never a truer statement spoken, and it should get BA to move past how he looked and onto more pressing problems. Like the backup troops that would be closing in on them any minute. "Decker has the keys."

"Well, that does pose a problem." Hannibal started, he hadn't taken his eyes off of Decker the whole time. "Since I'll need you to keep your hands where I can see them."

The last of the squad cars came into view, slowly rolling to a stop less than a quarter mile from where their little hold up was. Whatever Hannibal had done to Decker's engine, he'd done it to all of them. That distance would buy them some extra time, but it didn't stop the anxious MPs inside the car from scrambling to make it out with their guns drawn.

"Why don't you get out of the car, Decker." Hannibal instructed. "Nice and slow. BA? Give him a hand."

BA was around the car in a flash. Before Decker even had a chance to try and open the door, BA was there, pulling it open and yanking him out of the car and up to his feet by the shirt. The burly sergeant spun Decker around, wrapping his muscular arm tightly around Decker's throat, his hand latching into the center of his other elbow, sinking the choke in before anyone had the chance to move.

Goddamn it, this was not what they needed right now!

"How you like fightin' someone not handcuffed, sucker!"

"BA, don't!" Face shouted. They didn't have time to settle this dispute. They needed out of here, down the open road, and the hell away from Decker and all things green. And now, the once hesitating MPs were in a full blown run towards them and their CO struggled in vain against BA's choke. Nothing was getting Decker out of that short of BA willingly letting him go.

"Eh eh! Hold it!" Hannibal stopped Crane short of making a move to somehow help Decker from the other side of the car, raising his rifle up and barreling down the military colonel. It was enough to bring everyone to a stop.

"Let him go." This time Face made sure it was an order and the choke eased up almost instantly. Good, that was a step in the right direction. But BA was still glaring, jaw clamped tight as he continued to hold Decker still. Face's tone softened a bit, catching BA's eyes, he let the larger man see some truth in them. "I had it coming." He paused just long enough to make sure BA had really heard him. "Let him go."

"Do it, BA." Hannibal ordered. "Face, where's that key?"

"The key, Decker." Face reiterated as BA finally let the man go, spinning him around and shoving his back into the squad car.

"Go to hell."

Face took a deep breath as Decker glared daggers at him in stony silence.

"Face, BA, get in the van."

BA moved, leaving Face and Decker alone. It was all Face needed - one moment to clear the air and set things straight. "Let me tell you something, Decker, that white knight card you're playing off my back," his teeth gritted, muscles involuntarily tightening as he his mind traced back over the past week and that do gooder . "It'd doesn't last forever."

"I sure as hell hope not, Lieutenant. I'd rather have you in jail any day of the week. And sooner or later, it _will _happen." Face could hear the venom in Decker voice. Pure unadulterated hatred. "And if I have anything to say about it, you'll face a firing squad."

Face's smirk was dry and humorless, but for the first time in far too long Decker's threat was absolutely empty. "We'll see."

"Now, Lieutenant."

"Next time, Decker." Face moved back towards the van, ready to put this whole thing behind him. "Remember what I said about a tropical location."

BA reached over him as he sat down on the van floor and spun his legs inside, sliding the door closed. Hannibal let off a round of automatic fire.

"Looks like you've got on hell of a walk ahead of you. It's quite a ways back to the gas station and even further in the other direction." Hannibal pulled himself back into the van, resting the rifle across his lap. "Let's go!" A second later the tires spun on the road for a moment before finally gripping the street and propelling them forward. Leaving Decker and his goon squad standing in a victorious cloud of dust.

Face out rightly laughed at the irony of that statement. A few miles walk was the least Decker could deal with at this point. "Nice, Hannibal." Resting his back against the bucket seat, he let himself relax for the first time in far too long. Home sweet home - leather and gun oil had never smelled so good. And in that moment, the world made sense again.

It was several long moments of silence, sitting there, relishing the simple ability to rest for the first time in days, when he finally managed to gather enough strength to push that need aside. "Hey, BA," he pushed himself up to his knees, moving towards the middle of the van, closer to the sergeant. "How about getting me out of these cuffs?"

After an appraising grunt from the big man, Face heard the clattering of tools being rummaged through in the back. In a matter of seconds he'd had these damn things off his wrists for good. Before he had a chance to take comfort in any of the other familiarities of the van, Hannibal's chair spun around as the colonel's rifle was settled on the floor.

"So, what happened, Face?" That pointed stare as Hannibal chomped down on a cigar was all too familiar. "I thought you had this all under control."

The amused tone on Hannibal's voice shouldn't have surprised him. After all, he was on his knees, still bound, in tattered disheveled clothes, with a beard that did nothing to hide some very nice bruises on his face, looking nothing like the high society aristocrat he had come to love so much.

Amused was probably the perfect word for Hannibal right now.

Without a though a well practiced smile - if not a bit tight - found its way to his face. "Boy, Hannibal, you sure know how to make an entrance. And _talk _about timing."

"Don't move." BA grumbled from behind him.

"Lieutenant," Hannibal continued as a deep satisfying snap of metal rang out as the bolt cutters went through the cuffs like butter under BA's hand. "You're lucky the news media got a hold of this or we never would've known where to look."

This time a genuine smile came across his features as he brought his hands around front of him. "I know, Hannibal." Pushing himself up to the empty bucket seat, he let himself sink into that soft leather. Rubbing his wrists a bit to sooth the deep ache that had set into them, he rolled his shoulders. He needed a hot bath and twenty-four hour massage with Trianna.

But that was neither here nor there. Hannibal was right, he'd been staring at life from the inside of a jail cell five minutes ago. It was a empty, hopeless place that he had no desire to explore further. "That thought crossed my mind more than once."

"Hey, Face," Murdock chimed in, hunched over the steering wheel in heavy concentration as he maneuvered the van down the road. "How was camping?"

"It was great, Murdock. Probably measured right up there with that cup of jello you were supposed to be sharing with Decker."

He looked back at Hannibal, the playfulness falling away again. The lecture wasn't over. There was a lot of explaining to do and even more questions to be answered and he was absolutely expected to answer each and every one of them.

Face almost squirmed in his seat under Hannibal's scrutinizing stare, "You look like hell."

"And you kind of smell like it too."

"Shut up, fool."

"I'm aware – on both accounts." He made sure to acknowledge Murdock before he heard more about it. "It was a long week." Actually, he had no idea of a number of things at this point. Including what day it was or how long he'd actually been out there.

Face sat there for a moment longer before Hannibal dismissed him with no more than a glance. He was glad to be done with it for the moment. More would come later, but he wanted out of these clothes for now. He looked around, "Murdock," he pulled off his shirt – both of them, "give me your hat, will you?"

"No problemo, Faceman."

Face grabbed the hat and smiled at Murdock's hair as it stuck up in every direction – it added to the crazy. "Thanks." He pushed himself up out of the seat and turned towards the back of the van. As he passed BA his hand caught the bigger man's shoulder for a moment. "Honestly, I'm fine."

Face smiled as a hand – softer than one would think given BA's stature – covered his. "You didn't deserve it, Face."

Face dropped his eyes at that. There was nothing he would ever be able to say to convince BA otherwise. "BA," he paused for a moment thinking back over the entire miserable affair. "I didn't exactly make things easy."

BA didn't say anything back to him, and he wouldn't. BA would never be able to rectify Face getting hurt. It was a fact, and a responsibility they all carried. They were all accountable for each other's actions, and reactions. And Face honestly questioned Decker's safety if the man got anywhere close to them in the next few weeks. There would be no stopping BA from setting things 'right' next time around. Time and distance were the only answer to that particular problem.

He settled down in the back of the van to rummage through the odds and ends that they kept until he found some clean clothes. It didn't take him long to put on a fresh pair of jeans and a T-shirt. Finally dressed again, he turned his attention to the tools, clanging things around until he finally found a lengthy strip of metal in one of the tool boxes. He held it up to BA. "You need this?"

BA shook his head and a second later Face plopped down in his rightful seat again. Fiddling with the piece of metal until it was right for the job at hand. Finally, he inserted it into the cuff on his left wrist until it clicked free. His right took him longer to get undone, but finally they were off his wrists once and for all. A Deep satisfying smile crossed his face as he tossed them onto the pile of discarded clothes and did his best to ignore the deep angry bruises that encircled his wrists.

"So," he smiled at Hannibal, "news coverage, huh?" Hannibal would be more than happy to share the makings of the escape plan, and it would divert attention from his state of well being – however temporary a reprieve it might be.

Hannibal nodded around a cigar. "Decker was so busy watching you at the gas station, he didn't even give a thorough look at the attendants." He couldn't suppress the grin that took over, "Hershey's chocolate does wonders to the fuel intake system on a Crown Vic."

Face shook his head in disbelief. He hadn't seen Hannibal at the gas station either. How lost in his own despair had he been? "Nice," he chuckled, "that's a whole other reason to appreciate chocolate."

Hannibal nodded, a familiar glint in his eyes. "It let them get just far enough to put their radios out of range. At that point, we just walked right up and knocked." A self satisfied, smugness entered his voice.

Should have known. "Front door." Face looked around at his friends. He was definitely glad to be back in their company. "I love it." He finally let himself relax into the seat. The exhaustion, physical and emotional was catching up to him. It was good to be back where he belonged.


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: To everyone who has followed this story, thank you for your loyalty and great aptitude for patience! All of your comments were greatly appreciated. Everyone who sent well wishes for the birth of my daughter, thank you much. I am not the proud momma of a beautiful little girl who is an absolute joy. Future works are going to be posted under the name Monkeeshines. Monkeeshines is a conglomerate effort of several people that comprise writers, editors commentators, and timekeepers. There are currently five books in the works and what promises to be more. The first book is titled Rules of Engagement, is currently approximately halfway done. This is a project that wont be posted as Power Play was, once we start posting it, it should be on a regular basis instead of over a couple year spread.

Again, feel free to contact me on AIM under the SN Quentillian or in a chatroom named TAT.

Epilogue

It had been a mere nine days since Face had regained his freedom. In that time he'd done everything he could to shed the entire experience. A haircut that, in all honesty, he didn't really need, new clothes and showers that involved more loofah sponges and bars of soap than he had thought possible. The only remaining evidence of the whole ordeal that remained were the fading bruises around his wrists and the occasional distant stare he would get from one of the guys.

He hadn't bothered entertaining the looks. It was done and over and that's how it needed to stay. Even Hannibal had let him off the hook without demanding a play by play of what had gone wrong. They both knew how easily it could've gone catastrophically wrong and, at the same time, how easily it could've been avoided. Luckily, Hannibal seemed to realize he'd learned that lesson about those indiscriminate skirts and succulent long legs this time around. They'd shared some beers on the balcony at Hannibal's place and hit the highlights, letting the rest fade to the background where it belonged. Other than that, it was business as usual. At least as usual as things got for them.

Yesterday, they had left for Arkansas, for a new job with new distractions and, more importantly, a new direction away from Decker. Face let a self-satisfied grin cross his features as he climbed back into the van, leaving the door open and enjoying the sunshine. Reaching over to the front console, Face grabbed a pen before sitting down in his regular spot and pulling a postcard out of his shirt pocket.

"Hey, toss me that box, will ya Murdock?"

Sprawled across the back bench seat, his baseball cap pushed up, Murdock was entirely enthralled in the latest issue of The Fantastic Four.

"Mmm, sure, Face." He managed to pull himself away from the comic just enough to blindly reach a hand out and feel around for the box, nose still buried in the flimsy pages. "Stan Lee is brilliant."

"I'm sure he is." Face waited a moment longer, perhaps for a break in whatever action Murdock had been drawn into on the brightly colored pages. Finally, he gave up. "To the left, Murdock."

Slowly, Murdock stretched a bit further, finally finding the box just a bit too far out of reach to do any good. With a deep, put-upon sigh he set the comic down and moved to actually grab the container and hand it to Face.

"Whatchya got in here, Face, rocks?"

"No." He allowed himself a smug grin as he grabbed the box and used it as a table for the postcard. "It's a surprise for Decker." He didn't bother to elaborate as he scribbled 36 - 26 - 36 onto the card.

"Oh, yeah? Is it going to be a good surprise or a bad one?" Pushing himself up, Murdock's growing curiosity had him forgetting about the comic book. "'Cause if you're going to mail him spiders you're gonna need a bigger box - with air holes in it. A box of dead spiders just doesn't have the same visual and visceral impact as a box of live ones."

Face laughed as Murdock stabbed an invisible box. "I think good versus bad is entirely up to interpretation on this one."

"Good, good. It'll give the two of us something to chat about when he comes for his Jello and 'where's the Team' appointment." Shifting over from the bench, Murdock dropped into his usual seat across from Face, chatting the whole time. "It gets real boring having to talk about the same thing every visit. Maybe you could broaden his horizons, get him a hobby. Something like basket weaving or painting on velvet."

"It's nothing quite that insightful, Murdock." Decker may have gotten the best of him. To a degree that was uncomfortable for Face to even think about. But that didn't mean the man was going to get off without so much as a parting gift. Smiling, Face looped his fingers through tropically bright material. He had neckties that were made of more material, and yet, somehow, he could only think how good the string bikini would look on a tanned vixen. "It's more of a lighthearted jab."

It was a friendly little reminder of Face's request so many days ago. He only hoped that Decker was smart enough to piece the measurements on the postcard together with the swimsuit and the tropical location displayed so beautifully on the postcard. Of course, Decker was smarter than Lynch, so there was some hope he'd get it.

"Face, you can't send that!" The shock and distaste in Murdock's voice had him looking up at the lanky pilot for some sort of explanation. "That's not his color! He needs a spring palette!"

Suppressing the urge to roll his eyes, Face let his hands rest on the side of the box. "It's not for _him._" Thirty-six, twenty-six, thirty-six, would most definitely look good in that bit of clothing. "And this," he raised his hands up slightly again for a moment, the sliver of cloth hanging from his fingers. "Would look good on anyone."

"I don't know, Face, I think it would be an awful lot of work for me. Shaving, plucking," Murdock let out a full body shiver. "_Waxing. Lots and lots of waxing._"

Of course he'd twist this.

"While I support your actions, Face, if not your color choice, I don't think it'd be a good idea to let the big guy see you messing with Decker quite so soon." Face's smile faltered at that, but Murdock wasn't done. "In fact, we probably shouldn't say the name Decker, think the name, or... You know what, just to be on the safe side, let's just avoid everything that starts with the letter D. Because, between you and me and the tiny bikini there, I haven't seen BA mad like that in a long time."

Face leaned back in his chair and looked at Murdock for a long moment. BA's overall disposition had improved...a bit. But anyone who thought it was more than just simmering below the surface was in for a surprise. Face hadn't talked to BA about what had happened and he had no plans to. That didn't change the fact that while Face may have moved on, BA was still having problems with what had happened.

"Maybe seeing me messing with Decker is just what he needs." Admitting that he'd sealed his own fate with the Army Colonel had taken a degree of self-awareness that Face was neither inclined to nor had plans of revisiting. If BA hadn't so obviously been about to derail a perfectly good rescue by beating the man to what promised to be a bloody pulp, gaining felony charges they'd actually be guilty of, he never would've gone down that road of introspection to begin with.

"He's hanging onto this a bit longer than I expected."

Murdock sat there so uncharacteristically quiet and _still_ that Face found himself fighting the urge to fidget. Finally, Murdock leaned in close to him, his eyes betraying any number of fleeting emotions that Face didn't quite get the chance to latch onto.

"Face you can be a grade A, number one, card carrying, first rate pain in the ass when you want to. And sometimes when you don't wanna." Face smiled at that – he couldn't help himself. "We've all been on the receiving end of it, and I kinda feel bad for the ol' flintface. You had to have pushed him right over the edge. But you're missing something big here, Face."

He took a deep breath. Of course he was missing something and sure enough, helpful ole Murdock was going to set him straight.

"When's the last time any of us have seen you covered in bruises, filthy beyond recognition and sporting a beard?"

He knew the answer to that instantly and, just like that, whatever indignation and irritation he'd held was gone. It had no place anywhere near the memories that Murdock was referencing. He hadn't let himself connect those dots. This life was separate from the life he'd had in the jungles of 'Nam, and it was going to stay that way.

"So yes, the Mudsucker is gonna be hanging onto this for a while. We all will." Murdock patted him on the knee and smiled. "It's just most of us have better coping skills. Maybe we should sign him up for a yoga class to help vent the aggression – or I could give him my shrinks number. Bet he'd like that." He offered with a toothy grin.

Face didn't get a chance to respond. The atmosphere broke as BA and Hannibal piled back into the van. Great. Sitting up a bit straighter, he tried shaking the conversation he'd been having.

"What's up guys?" He asked, trying for light as Hannibal spun around in his chair.

"I was just about to ask you that."

"Whad'ya get me Hannibal? Huh, huh?" Murdock interrupted.

Hannibal pulled out a cigar as his gaze moved from Face to Murdock. Good, Murdock could get all of the attention.

"I must have misplaced your order, Captain." Hannibal put a consoling hand on Murdock's shoulder. "Next time."

"That's alright, Colonel. I'm willing to sacrifice for the team." Murdock's eyes drifted to the comic still splayed out over the bench seat.

"Quit your jabbering, fool." BA growled as the van roared to life.

"So," Hannibal looked from Face to Murdock again. The grin not quite covering the determined look in his eyes. "What's going on guys?" It wasn't just small talk. Hannibal wasn't about to let anything slide at this point. Face suddenly felt very aware of the still open box on his lap and no longer terribly amused by his tactics.

The ever hopeful but not real bright part of his brain prayed that maybe Murdock would shut down any further questioning. No dice. Face could see Murdock squirm. That wasn't going to placate Hannibal. In fact it would do the exact opposite.

"Well, we, uh, Colonel-" Murdock stumbled, "I – we. See, I, no, no, we was just talking about bathing suits. Like that one there." Murdock pointed to the box still in Face's lap with an anxious smile.

Face tried to hide irritation at being sold out and shot Murdock a glare as the captain slunk to the back of the van to rejoin his discarded comic.

"So, Lieutenant, what's in the box?"

Face poured his attention into closing the cardboard flaps. It was very complicated and a nice diversion. Finally, he set the box down on Murdock's vacated seat. That well-rehearsed smile found its way back.

"A bathing suit."

"I know that much." With entirely too much calm, Hannibal pointed the business end of his cigar at Murdock. "He already told me that."

Any number of explanations were on the verge of spilling out. New girlfriend, nice tan line. His new place had a pool, no need to have a woman caught without her swimsuit. He could run with any number of stories. And there was a _chance _he could sell if it if Murdock wasn't there. Not a big chance though, because, after all, Hannibal had an uncanny knack for calling bullshit on him. It was annoying at best.

"It's like this..." The second his eyes caught BA's in the mirror he was done. Hell. "It's a gift."

God, this was stupid and uncomfortable. He had just wanted to swing by the post office and have a laugh at the whole damn thing, but Murdock pointing out just how serious his escapades had been made it a bit difficult to justify being so cavalier about things.

"Very good, Lieutenant."

Wonderful. The use of his rank was the end of Hannibal's patience. "And now for the rest of the story?" He smiled around the cigar and waited expectantly.

Face sighed audibly at that. His jaw setting a bit more firmly. "I was going to mail it to Decker." He flipped the postcard up between his fingers for Hannibal to see. "That, and a postcard." It was a tropical waterfall, probably some honeymoon resort. Crisp blue water spilling downwards to a turbulent yet calm paradise.

"So, you're trying to irritate the man who just came within a hair's breadth of locking you up so tight we might've actually had a hard time getting you out? And knowing he's already going to come after us twice as hard since you escaped all of that?"

"Pretty much. Yeah." Face raised a brow. "That was the idea." His tone was back to nonchalant and filled with the original amusement at the idea he'd jumped into the van with. It was funny. And it would be nice if everyone finally realized it was over.

There was complete and uncanny silence for several longer-than-normal seconds. Stiff, uncomfortable, heavy silence – broken suddenly by an unexpectedly high pitched, schoolgirl-like laughter.

All attention turned toward BA as he pointed a gold laden finger at Hannibal.

"You have that coming to ya' Hannibal. He sounds just like you on the jazz." Maybe it was BA's blunt way of calling out Hannibal, or, more likely, it was the world's silliest giggle coming out of one of the world's toughest men. But, suddenly the tension erased as though it had never been there, and the van filled with laughter

"Nice, Face." Hannibal clapped his knee. "Real nice." Slowly, the laughing eased up, replaced by a calm, familiar, camaraderie.

"What do you say, BA?" Hannibal was still grinning around his cigar. "Can you find Face a post office?"

Scowl back in place, BA's eyes had a hint of twinkle in them as he put the van in gear and set off for the nearest mailbox.


End file.
